


Kiss Me on This Cold December Night

by hopeneverdies



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Anal Sex, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Birthday, Bottom Harry, Christmas, Enemies to Lovers, Football Player Liam, Football Player Louis, M/M, NFL lover Harry, New Year's Eve, Top Louis, brief mention of a minor character's depression and suicidal thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-21
Updated: 2016-12-21
Packaged: 2018-09-10 22:13:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 34,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8941456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hopeneverdies/pseuds/hopeneverdies
Summary: Louis Tomlinson is a year three football (soccer) player attending a university that fosters international students in Ontario, Canada.  Harry Styles is a year one student living in the same building and is obsessed with the Green Bay Packers.  Louis thinks Harry's a wanker while Harry can't figure out why Louis doesn't like him.  A blizzard keeps them and their mutual mates from flying home for Christmas.  Will Louis ever see Harry for who he really is?  Will they both be able to overcome past heartbreak and open up to someone again?





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [allwaswell16](https://archiveofourown.org/users/allwaswell16/gifts).



> When these prompts were sent out for the HL Christmas and New Year Fanfiction exchange, I just so happened to be in the middle of reading "Just Hear This and Then I'll Go" by allwaswell16, which I loved so much (seriously go read it if you haven't). So I was ecstatic to see that I received her prompts for this exchange. This fic encompasses a little bit of that "Pride and Prejudice" vibe as well I think. I hope it's at least a fraction of what you (allwaswell16) were hoping for and that you enjoy it! I had a lot of fun writing it. ;)
> 
> Thank you to the amazing TTLovesLarry for being my beta! Seriously, you are awesome and this fic would've been a mess without you! <3
> 
> I'll admit this work was not completely Britpicked. A brief section of it was, however, due to certain understandable circumstances my britpicker couldn't finish it. So, I apologize in advance for anything that sounds too American for a British character. I hope you all enjoy it anyway. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I am in no way associated with One Direction (as a whole or with any of its current or former individual members). This is a work of fiction. Original characters belong to me. Do not post elsewhere (other than a brief summary or quote) and do not translate without prior permission. 
> 
> Title is from the Michael Buble song "Cold December Night."
> 
> Follow me on Tumblr: @larrysafehaven

October 31st

“C’mon Zayn! I need a selfie with me best bandmate!”

The dark eyed lad snorted. “Bandmate? Could you imagine us in an actual rock band?” He leaned in, his head touching Louis’ as they both stuck their tongues out and held up the rock and roll sign with their hands for the camera.

“Hey, I’m a bloody brilliant singer, mate. You are too and you know it,” Louis boasted while taking a quick glance at the picture he just snapped.

“We might both be able to carry a tune but could you really see us in a band like KISS, where we paint our faces and dress in head-to-toe leather?” Zayn raised an eyebrow.

Louis tried to imagine the scenario in his head. “Not so much, yeah? I think I’ll just stick to pretending to be them for one night and go back to singing Backstreet Boys at the karaoke bar on Friday.”

It was Halloween and tonight was the biggest party night of the year on campus and the best bash was going on right next door in their mate Niall Horan’s flat. Louis and Zayn made their way over, late enough to be fashionable but early enough to not miss out on the highlights of the evening. As soon as the door opened they were greeted by the blonde Irishman’s beaming smile, loud voice, and even louder clown costume, complete with a big red squeezable nose. They exchanged bro hugs and made their way through the crowd of dancing costumed university students before reaching a huge ice bucket full of Stella Artois bottles. They each grabbed a beer and soon Zayn was preoccupied by a friendly girl in his art history class as Louis slowly worked his way back to the front of the relatively large flat, searching for someone he recognized, which was difficult with all the masks, wigs, and face paint in the room.

“Harold! You made it!” Louis’ attention was once again drawn to the front door by Niall’s familiar drunken brogue. He was greeting the kid from 28H. There were eight flats in building number 28, four downstairs (A through D) and four upstairs (E through H). Louis, Zayn, and Javier (their Portuguese flatmate and Louis’ teammate on the football team) lived in 28D, and Niall, along with his flatmates Rory, a fellow Irishman, and Ren, from Japan, resided in 28C. The entire complex was full of international students.

Louis knew the kid from 28H was a first year student, was roomies with Nick Grimshaw and Ed Sheeran (probably the most well known Brits on campus), and had the most infectious smile and perfect dimples he’d ever laid eyes on. Unfortunately the kid, whom Louis had internally dubbed Curly due to his head full of chestnut curls, walked around campus dressed in green and yellow football apparel nearly everyday like some glorified American frat boy, not that Louis had been taking special notice of it or anything, but well, he had. So he couldn’t help but roll his eyes when the kid walked into the party dressed as none other than a football player, and not the type of football Louis played for the university, but the type that involved shoulder pads, yard lines, and quarterbacks.

“He wouldn’t know real football if it smacked him in the face,” Louis murmured under his breath. The lanky lad stood animatedly in conversation with Niall and Jack, an Australian bloke who also lived upstairs, and Louis couldn’t seem to take his eyes off the way he motioned with his hands as if everything was a big deal, and then, oh and then, Louis witnessed the most horrifying moment yet: the lad was showing the other boys a tattoo on his left arm, just above the crook of his elbow. Was that a Green Bay Packers symbol permanently inked into the British boy’s skin? Louis shuffled a little closer to get a better view.

It was.

Louis’ shook his head. “What a wanker,” he thought as he turned around and made his way back through the crowd to find Zayn. He was sure of one thing. Curly was one cute boy he wouldn’t bother getting to know this semester.


	2. Chapter 1

December 22nd

“No! Don’t say canceled!” Liam smacked his hand on the beam under the monitor that showed updated flight times. The flight from Ottawa to London had just changed from delayed to canceled on the screen. “We have to get home!”

“Relax, love,” Zayn placed a comforting arm around his boyfriend. “We still have plenty of time to catch another flight and get to Wolverhampton in time for Christmas.”

Liam showed little sign of relaxing. “I know, but it’s the first time I’ve brought a boyfriend home to meet my family and I just want it to go perfectly.”

“It will,” Zayn smiled, “I promise.” He placed a gentle kiss on the other boy’s forehead.

Louis rubbed his tired eyes with his right hand. It was half six in the morning and their flight home for Christmas had been delayed for eight hours due to a snowstorm hammering Eastern Ontario. Sleeping in an armchair at the Ottawa airport hadn’t been the most comfortable experience and he had been looking forward to a long nap on the plane. “This is what we get for choosing to go to uni in Canada,” he murmured groggily.

“Let’s see if we can arrange another flight,” Zayn suggested, heading toward the attendant at the Air Canada counter.

"ATTENTION EVERYONE!"  
A professional sounding male voice came over the loudspeaker above the three boys’ heads. They instinctively looked up to find where the message was coming from.

"THE WINTER STORM WARNING FOR OTTAWA HAS NOW BEEN UPGRADED TO A BLIZZARD WARNING. UP TO ONE METER OF SNOW COULD FALL OVER THE NEXT TWO DAYS WITH EXTREMELY HIGH WINDS. THEREFORE, THE AIRPORT HAS CANCELED ALL INCOMING AND OUTGOING FLIGHTS UNTIL 6PM TOMORROW EVENING WHEN WE WILL REASSESS THE SITUATION. PLEASE CHECK WITH YOUR AIRLINE COUNTER FOR REFUND OR TRANSFER ARRANGEMENTS. WE APOLOGIZE FOR ANY INCONVENIENCE AND WISH YOU HAPPY HOLIDAYS."

A chorus of groans rang out around the terminal as the message was repeated in French.

“What do we do now?” Louis asked. He didn’t like the idea of spending the next 36 hours twiddling his thumbs and eating his meals from a vending machine.

“Hey mates!” A familiar voice greeted the three lads.

“Nialler!” Louis’ voice happily responded. “I figured you were already back in Ireland by now. Haven’t seen you for at least two days and it’s a rare day I don’t hear that bloody guitar of yours through me bedroom wall.” He slapped the blonde blue-eyed lad on the shoulder.

“I was buried in books, Tommo,” Niall answered back. “This semester kicked my arse. Was supposed to catch the 8 o’clock flight to London, but I guess that won’t be happening now.”

They all nodded in agreement.

“How about we go back to school and hang out at my flat today? I know Nick’s staying on campus over Christmas to keep the radio station up and running, and Kat’s flight to Calgary is canceled for tonight as well. We could play some FIFA or go to the rec hall and hustle pool from some unsuspecting 18 year olds?”

“Sounds great to me!” Louis exclaimed. Anything would be better than hanging out in the airport all day and night. Plus, Niall always provided a good time for Louis, even if it was just the two of them. He was sure that today would be fun and hopefully by tomorrow night he would be on his way home to England.

………………………….

Harry cracked two eggs over the skillet, successfully keeping the yolks intact. A pile of blueberry pancakes already sat in the middle of the small circular table next to the kitchen window, along with a bottle of maple syrup. Nick strolled into the room moments later just as Harry was placing the eggs on plates. Dressed in khaki trousers and a black button down shirt, the first two buttons undone, Harry knew Nick must be working the day shift at the campus radio station. He was in his last year of university, and as the most experienced disc jockey, had agreed to stay over the holidays to keep the station running smoothly while all but one other station worker, an Ottawa born and bred year three student named Greg, went home to celebrate with their families. Their other flatmate Ed was included in that lot, having left for England the day before. A lot of people found Nick to be a little self absorbed, but in just a few months Harry had realized that deep down he was a pretty decent lad.

“Have I ever told you that I love having you as a flatmate?” Nick asked, grabbing a fork from a drawer before sitting down at the table to indulge in breakfast. He took one bite of an egg before a moaning sound left his mouth. “Fuck, these are delicious!”

Harry rolled his eyes. “You only love me because I cook for you.”

“I love you because you’re a damn good cook,” Nick answered, before adding, “and you clean up your messes too.”

“And yours,” Harry pointed out.

Nick smiled. “And mine.”

“And Ed’s.”

“Okay, okay, and Ed’s too.” Nick faked exasperation. “What would we possibly do without you Styles?”

“Wallow in filth?” Harry questioned, a hint of a smile crossed his lips.

“Hmm...probably,” Nick admitted. They both ate in silence for a few minutes before Nick spoke again. “So, Niall called and said that the storm shut down all the flights until tomorrow evening. Did you hear that?”

“Yeah,” Harry had planned to fly out the next morning, but now was on the waiting list for a red eye flight arriving in London just before noon on Christmas Eve. He hoped he could get a seat on the flight and that it would leave on time because his mum and stepdad were leaving on a ten day trip to Florida on the twenty-sixth. His older sister, Gemma, was leaving on a ski trip to France with some friends that day as well. He wouldn’t get much time to spend with them, and he wasn’t too ashamed to admit to himself that he was missing them something fierce, despite enjoying most of his university experience in Ottawa so far. At 18 years old, nothing had been more difficult than saying goodbye to everything and everyone he loved in Holmes Chapel and flying thousands of miles across the Atlantic to start a new life. Well, perhaps there had been one thing that had been more difficult in his lifetime, but he pushed the thoughts of last January out of his mind. It was Christmastime, his favorite time of the year, and he was going to enjoy it, whether in Europe, or stuck in the bitter cold of Canada. Next month he could drink himself to oblivion in an attempt to forget the previous winter.

“He invited us over along with a few other people since we’re all snowed in. I told him I’d stop over after my shift at the station, but he said you could come over anytime if you wanted.”

Harry nodded. He was still getting to know people around campus, especially since he was one of the few year one students who had been allowed to room in the campus apartments instead of the dormitories, but he already liked Niall. He was everything you expected from an Irish bloke and more. Nice, fun, hilarious, loyal, and talented all described the blonde year two music major to a T, yet he was also loud, brutally honest, and could drink you under the table if challenged. He was the sort of lad you wanted on your side if you ever found yourself in a bind. Niall’s girlfriend, Kat, was lovely as well, and Harry enjoyed spending time with them both.

“Sounds good. I’ll probably stop over after lunch,” he responded as Nick got up, dropped his empty plates into the sink, and headed to the closet by the front door to grab his long gray pea coat, plaid knit scarf, and black suede gloves. Last, he slipped on a pair of black snow boots. Harry imagined it wouldn’t be easy trudging through the snow to the radio station on the other side of campus, especially with the frigid wind whipping in one’s face.

“Okay, I’ll see you later,” Nick called back as he was walking out the door.

A few hours later, Harry knocked on the door of flat 28C.

……………………………...

Louis and Kat looked up from the ugly old brown sofa, where Liam and Zayn were battling one another in a game of FIFA, to see who Niall was greeting at the door. Despite being madly in love, Liam and Zayn were surprisingly competitive with one another, especially Liam who hated to lose anything to anyone. Louis always cheered for Zayn, partly because he and Zayn had been best friends for years and partly because he loved to watch Liam get more and more aggravated by Louis’ incessant support for his boyfriend, since Louis and Liam were actual teammates on the football team. Louis had introduced the two more than a year before and within a month they were dating. Now they were inseparable and Louis was beginning to feel a bit like a third wheel sometimes. He had other friends, but he didn’t really have anyone else he wanted to spend countless hours with, not since last spring. He did enjoy spending time with Niall, but he had Kat, and she was way too good for him (which Louis reminded Niall of almost every time they hung out). She seemed to love the lad nonetheless, so once again Louis felt he stood out like a sore thumb: surrounded by love while he was all alone.

“Harry! It’s great to see you, mate!” Niall high-fived the boy who entered the room.

Louis rolled his eyes.

_Great, the knob from 28H is here. At least I can kick Curly’s arse in FIFA._

Niall introduced the dark haired lad, who was wearing a yellow Green Bay snap-back backward on his head along with a matching green jacket over a gray Packers t-shirt, to the other three boys. Louis noticed a cross necklace hanging from around the tall boy’s neck, the religious symbol resting atop the lettering on his jacket. Zayn and Liam welcomed him warmly with a handshake, while Louis barely lifted his hand with a slight wave and a murmured hello.

Louis noticed the younger lad’s smile seemed genuine, but he also knew from experience how fraudulent a beautiful smile could be. And well, Curly’s smile was perhaps one of the most stunning Louis had ever laid eyes upon, with his plump pink lips, ridiculously white teeth, and deep dimples, and when in combo with his sparkling green eyes, could perhaps strike a man dead right there on the spot. The older lad broke the eye contact quickly, as if it were needed to save his life.

A moment later Liam raised his arms in victory, leaving Zayn to FIFA defeat. The celebration only lasted a moment for Liam, however, before Kat took a pillow from the couch and smacked him in the face with it, eliciting laughs from the whole room. Zayn was quick to kiss his boyfriend on the nose and it seemed to heal any hurt Liam was feeling from Kat’s betrayal.

“Who’s up next?” Niall called out.

“I am!” Louis exclaimed. “I’ve been waiting for a bloody hour and a half. Give me that controller!”  
Niall tossed one controller in Louis’ direction, the older lad catching it perfectly with his right hand.

“How about you Harry?” Niall asked, offering a controller to the younger bloke, who had found a seat on the floor next to the oak coffee table, his long bird-like legs crossed in front of him.

“Sure,” Harry responded, his voice deep and slightly raspy; just raspy enough for Louis to feel his pants tighten a smidgen. He immediately tried to focus on the game at hand instead of on the sounds emitting from the other lad’s lips.

“You’re going down!” Louis declared and Harry smiled in response without saying a word.  
Sure enough ten minutes later Louis was jumping from the sofa, yelling and swooping his arms around, making sure to let Harry know that Louis was in fact the FIFA king and that Harry was a simple peasant by comparison. At some point during the celebration Zayn placed a hand on Louis’ forearm and gave him a stern look to let him know he wasn’t being very polite. Louis didn’t care though, because Harry was a douchebag and he deserved to be knocked down a notch or two. What he didn’t expect was the strange look on Harry’s face as he graciously accepted his defeat.

“You’re right. I suck at FIFA,” Harry offered his hand out to Louis’ for a handshake.

Louis just stared at the outstretched limb for a few seconds, taken aback by the other boy’s gracious acceptance of defeat before finally agreeing to shake hands. Harry’s hand was large, easily enveloping Louis’ smaller hand, and it was warm, not quite sweaty, but for just a flash Louis could envision the warmness of that hand running along his bare body. He quickly shook off the image, letting go of Harry’s hand, and jumping up to get himself a beer from the fridge.

Two hours later the group found themselves growing bored of losing to Louis and decided to seek out a new activity. “How about we go to the rec hall and shoot some pool or throw some darts?” Liam suggested.

“Sounds great, but we’ll have to get our snow gear on first,” Kat responded.

“There’s bound to be a year one student who we can hustle,” Niall added.

“Hey! I’m a year one, remember?” Harry exclaimed.

“Oops, sorry mate.” Niall chuckled before heading to his bedroom to fetch some snow gear for himself and Kat.

Everyone else agreed to get their snow boots, coats, gloves, hats, and scarves at their own flats before meeting back up to head over to the rec hall, which under normal circumstances was only a five minute walk, but with the snow drifts, would take at least thrice as long.

Two minutes into their trip the group were beginning to regret their decision to leave the warmth of Niall’s flat. For Louis and Kat, who were the two shortest members of their group, the walk was increasingly difficult in drifts that reached to their knees while the snow continued to fall steadily and the wind whipped in their faces. It was the worst for Harry, however, as the long legged lad was like a newborn deer trying to find their legs in the snow; tripping and nearly falling over every ten feet or so. Louis had to hold in a chuckle the first few times the curly haired boy lost his balance, but he almost felt sorry for him by the third or fourth time it happened.

They all tugged at their scarves, pulling them up over their mouths and noses, but it did little to stop them from shivering and they all had tears in their eyes from the frigid air by the time they reached their destination. Louis would’ve given anything for the cold London rain at that moment.

Surprisingly the rec hall was nearly empty when they arrived. A small cafe was serving coffee and hot cocoa, however, and a few sips was all it took to warm everyone up. Liam and Niall quickly took up playing a game of darts, while Zayn looked on.

“There’s no one here to challenge to a game of pool,” Kat acknowledged. Louis noted disappointment on her face. Although Kat was small and friendly, Louis had seen first hand how the young woman could destroy a man’s self confidence at the pool table. The lads had learned a long time ago to never bet against her.

“I guess we’ll just have to play against each other,” Harry shrugged.

Louis immediately jumped at the opportunity to knock the frat boy down a few more pegs by slaughtering him at pool. Two and a half years at the university had made him into quite the solid billiards player, as many a late night were spent at the very table next to him.

“Chalk up, Curly,” he said with a smirk and a wink as he grabbed a cue for himself. This would be so much fun.

Harry nodded and did as told, before tossing the Packers beanie he was wearing on a nearby chair and running a large hand through his curls. “Loser pays for dinner. Pizza for everybody?”

This drew the attention of Niall, Zayn, and Liam, who drifted over to the pool tables to watch with interest. Kat raised her eyebrows. “I hope you know what you’re getting into, Haz.”

Louis smiled. “Deal.” He reached out to shake Harry’s hand. They shook across the table and once again Louis found himself pushing impure thoughts out of his head to focus on the moment at hand. He set the table up before allowing Harry to start the game. He wanted to give the kid a chance at a head start.

Harry leaned down and focused on the white ball lined up to break the solid and striped colored balls set in a triangular pattern. He carefully lined his cue up before sliding it through his fingers and hitting the white cue ball. The triangle pattern broke and balls scattered across the table, the solid orange ball with a 5 on it landing inside the pocket closest to where Louis was standing at the foot of the table.

“Looks like you’re the stripes,” Harry stated to him.

Louis smiled, but inwardly laughed, because Harry’s statement was so obvious and clearly the lad wasn’t very versed in pool. Getting a ball to fall in a pocket on the break wasn’t that difficult after all.

Harry walked around the table, excusing himself politely as he brushed by Louis, who was leaning back against another pool table, to find the best shot opportunity. He leaned down once again and aimed for the solid blue 2 ball. Louis noted that it wasn’t the most difficult shot to go for, but it wasn’t a gimme either. Harry hit the cue ball and the 2 ball rolled straight into the pocket he had been aiming for. Louis’ hands gripped the pool table behind him a little tighter. Perhaps this game wouldn’t be as easy as he thought.

Two more successful shots later Harry finally missed. It was Louis’ turn.

“Watch how it’s done, Curly,” he bragged while chalking up his cue stick. He eyed the table for the best shot, leaned down and easily sunk the purple striped 12 ball into one of the center pockets. Next he aimed for the red striped 15 ball, sinking a rather difficult shot. Niall let out a whistle of approval which drew a wink from Louis in his direction. His over confidence proved fatal, however, when on the next shot, he scratched, knocking the white cute ball into a corner pocket.

“Damn it,” he cursed in frustration.

Harry smiled as he walked around the table looking for his best shot opportunity. “7 ball, side pocket,” he declared as he leaned over to take the shot. A moment later the red 7 ball dropped into the pocket Harry had called.

“Lucky shot,” Louis stated.

“Not lucky,” Harry answered back with a grin and shake of his head, green eyes reflecting the lights above them. “Just good.”

Louis bit his tongue to keep from throwing out a sarcastic remark as Harry continued to run the table. By the time the black 8 ball sunk into the corner pocket closest to Louis minutes later, declaring Harry the winner, Louis’ knuckles were snow white from gripping the table behind him so tightly.

“Looks like you owe us dinner, Lou,” Zayn reminded.

Louis murmured under his breath as Harry reached across the table for another handshake. “Good match,” the other boy said, but Louis didn’t want to shake his hand. He didn’t want to admit that maybe this Bambi legged douche-bag wannabe jock might be a better pool player than him. So he ignored Harry’s hand and pushed his way past his friends, making his way toward the loo.

An hour later the group started back to Niall’s flat. The sidewalk had been cleared while they were inside the rec hall, but the thick falling snow was already laying a new blanket down over the top of it. They were walking with the wind at their backs, which didn’t make the sting of the cold quite as miserable as the walk there had been. Louis leaned down and tested the snow’s packing ability, fearing it may be too dry and fall apart in his gloved hand. It was perfect. He formed the snow into a perfect sphere shape and waited for just the right moment before he launched it into the air. It hit the back of Harry’s head with a wet thump. The younger lad turned around searching each of the faces behind him before his eyes landed on Louis who was sporting a shit eating grin. His eyes narrowed and before Louis knew it a snowball was being launched at him, hitting him, in the left shoulder.

“Oh it’s on now, Curly,” he declared.

Soon a full on snowball fight was in progress with Louis, Kat, and Zayn teaming up against Harry, Niall, and Liam. Louis ducked just in time to miss a snowball to the face from Liam. Kat nailed Harry in the chest, just before Zayn knocked Niall’s hood down off his head with a skimmer shot. As the battle went on more students started to wander out of their dorms and flats to join in the fight. Teams were neglected and it became a free-for-all with dozens of snowballs flying in every direction around the yard in front of the library. Laughter and shouts filled the air, and the fact that most of the students were worried they would get stuck at school for Christmas was briefly forgotten in the frigid blizzard afternoon.

The last move made before the snowball fight broke up was Kat dumping a handful of snow down the back of Niall’s pants. The Irishman swore as he danced around trying to get the snow to fall down his legs and out the bottom of his jeans. Thankfully he wasn’t wearing his skinny jeans, Louis thought as he laughed at his mate.

They reached Niall’s flat and heard the sound of the telly from outside the unlocked front door. As they each stepped into the living room they were greeted by the sight of Nick, lounging on the ugly brown sofa, watching a Michael Buble Christmas special.

“Hey mates!” Nick called out to them. “I thought you all might be hungry, so I brought some pizza!”

Nick looked perplexed when everyone turned to look at four pizza boxes stacked on the kitchen counter before looking to Louis with raised eyebrows.

“What?” Louis questioned, feigning ignorance.

“Louis.” Liam’s stare was a laser beam of sternness. After a moment Louis sighed and pulled out his wallet, dropping some cash onto Nick’s torso.

“What’s this for?”

Louis shook his head. “Don’t ask.”

…………………….

“I can’t believe we’re watching _Gremlins_ ,” Harry murmured from the floor in Niall’s living room. It wasn’t exactly the first film that came to mind when Harry thought about Christmas.

“Well, for your information, Curly,” Louis smugly replied from his nearby blue beanbag chair, “ _Gremlins_ is a Christmas classic and happens to be one of me favorites. I can’t go one Christmas without watching that mean old bat Mrs. Deagle get what’s coming to her and who can deny Gizmo? Cutest fucking present ever.”

“Yeah, really cute when he spawns into hideous green monsters,” Harry argued. “Stripe scared the shit out of me when I was a kid.”

Louis threw his head back and laughed. “Why am I not surprised?”

Harry chose to ignore the condescending tone in the older lad’s voice. He had noticed that Louis hadn’t said more than a few words to him since Harry beat him at pool that afternoon and once he thought more about it, even before their trip to the rec hall. In fact he seemed to be staring daggers at Harry every time he even sneaked a glance at him. If Louis was looking to make a new friend he wasn’t doing a very good job at it.

“I think Zayn modeled his hair after Stripe,” Niall teased. “I mean just look at that white stripe in the middle of his quiff.”

“Hey!” Zayn yelled from his spot cuddled up to Liam on the sofa. He threw a fistful of popcorn at the blonde lad who was cuddled up with Kat in a large armchair. Everyone laughed, even Harry, who was witnessing this camaraderie between old friends for the first time. He felt a bit out of place to be honest, despite himself being close to Niall, Kat, and Nick. On second thought, Zayn and Liam were very welcoming to Harry. It was only Louis who kept him feeling uneasy, and maybe it was because Harry found him to be so irritatingly attractive.

It wasn’t the first time he had thought that about Louis. He had witnessed the football star leaving for class or arriving home from practice from his balcony above Louis and Zayn’s flat many times. Both lads warranted a second, or third, or maybe tenth look, but it was apparent after only a few days of school that Zayn was taken. People all over campus talked about the soccer player and the art major who were in love. Louis, however, was never seen kissing or holding hands with anyone, girl or boy, outside his flat, at parties, or anywhere else on campus for that matter; not that Harry had seen or heard anyway. He found himself, over the course of the semester, studying outside at a picnic table near their building just so he could watch Louis return from football practice most evenings. The brown haired blue-eyed bloke with cheekbones of sin, curves that could kill, and a bum shaped like perfection had slowly worked his way into Harry’s brain and he had wondered how he could get to know the other boy, just as friends of course. It turned out that Louis was just a big disappointment with an ego the size of Niagara Falls. Harry tried to ignore the icy stare directed his way and focus on the movie. Midway through his eyes started to get heavy and he drifted off to sleep.

An hour later his eyelids fluttered open to the sound of a female voice. It took Harry a moment to gauge his surroundings. Kat was shaking his arm with a visible frown on her face. He sat up and stretched his arms above his head, his back stiff from his nap on the hard floor.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

Kat’s golden blonde fringe fell across her right eye and even though Harry wasn’t romantically or sexually interested in women, he could see in that moment why Niall often referred to her by the nickname Beautiful. She was small in build with an oval shaped face and long blonde hair that reached nearly to her waist, usually pulled up into a ponytail, but tonight it was down, and framed her face perfectly. Her green eyes nearly matched the shade of Harry’s own eyes. Her tiny voice often betrayed her, as she was as fierce as a mummy lion, and carried a poker face that no one else he knew could figure out, yet right now he saw a sadness in her eyes. “The airport announced that it won’t be opening until 8pm on Christmas Eve,” she replied. “I’m sorry Harry. I know you really wanted to get home before Christmas Day.”

Harry just nodded. So much for spending Christmas with his family this year.

“Hey, since we’re all going to be here tomorrow, why don’t we do a Christmas gift exchange?” Niall suggested. “Just something small like candy or homemade cookies or a DVD from the bargain bin at the petrol station?”

Everyone looked around at one another and shrugged. “Sure,” Liam answered. “How should we go about this exchange?”

They ended up writing everyone’s names on small slips of paper and took turns drawing the names from a bowl, making sure to keep their selections secret.

By the time Niall made his way to Harry, there were only two names left. Harry first went to reach for the folded up name on the right hand side of the bowl, but then changed his mind at the last second and grabbed the slip on the left. He slowly unfolded it and read the name sloppily sprawled across the paper:

_Louis_

Of course.

Harry fought against the urge to roll his eyes and painted on a faux smile. It was Christmas and he refused to be anything but polite even to the man currently staring daggers at him from across the room.


	3. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to add a little note here, that this chapter was written prior to Louis Tomlinson's mother, Jay Deakin's, death. There is a brief mention of her in this chapter. Since this is fiction and Louis is younger in this fic, I chose to keep her character a part of this story.

Chapter 2

December 23rd

“So what’s Louis’ story?” Harry called out between bites of toast with jam.

“Louis Tomlinson?” Nick replied from the bathroom down the hall where he was trying to dry his snow boots out on top of the heating vents.

“Do you know any other Louis on campus?” Harry asked with a sarcastic tone.

Nick appeared in the kitchen doorway. “Don’t be a dickhead,” he pointed at the younger man but his eyes showed he wasn’t really upset.

Harry smiled. They had only known one another for one semester and were nearly four years apart in age, but already Nick had become one of Harry’s best mates. With Nick being the head disc jockey at the radio station, being his bestie had benefits, because Nick typically heard all of the campus gossip. “Yes, Louis Tomlinson to answer your question.”

“What do you want to know?”

“I don’t know, I was just curious about him.”

Nick grinned. “You fancy him don’t you?”

Harry could feel a flush in his cheeks. “No, I don’t fancy him, Nick. I mean, he’s fit and all, but he’s also kind of an arse.”

“Yeah? I don’t really know that much about him to be honest. I mostly know him through Niall and Ed. He’s a sarcastic shit, but he’s never been rude to me or anything.”

“Well, what do you know, other than the fact that he’s a forward on the footie team?”

“Correction. He’s the best forward on the footie team.” Nick clarified.

“I thought you said you didn’t know much about him?” Harry teased.

“I don’t, but everyone knows he’s a star football player and his bum looks amazing in those white shorts.”

Harry chuckled. He had watched Louis in action at a few home games earlier in the semester and couldn’t help but agree. “Fair enough. What else?”

Nick raised his eyebrows. "You do fancy him don’t you?" Harry gave his roommate a stern look that Nick thankfully understood. “He’s in year three, he’s from somewhere in Yorkshire...."

“I gathered that from his accent,” Harry interrupted.

“He’s popular with most people and often the center of attention at parties, but he doesn’t seem to care that much about his popularity as he only appears to be close to a few mates. He and Zayn have been best friends for years and when Louis came here to play football, Zayn followed him the next year. I’m pretty sure Zayn and Liam met through Louis.”

“Is he—?” Harry paused, the word hanging uncomfortably on the edge of his tongue.

A few moments of silence passed as Nick seemed to be studying Harry’s face before his mouth curled slightly with his reply. “Gay?”

Harry gave a slight nod.

“Rumors have been flying about Tomlinson’s sexuality since he first stepped foot on campus. Yet, I don’t know if anyone knows what the real truth is. Last spring there were some rumors about him and some lad but nothing came of it. Some girl his first year here claimed she slept with him after homecoming but she wasn’t the most believable bird so who knows. As far as I know Louis never addressed her claim. Not one to kiss and tell I guess.”

Silence filled the room as Harry took in Nick’s words. What was it about himself that Louis disliked so much? He seemed fine with all of the other lads the day before, but Harry always seemed to rub him the wrong way. Did he just like his privacy? Did he not want to share his friends? Or was he just really competitive and hated losing to anyone? Perhaps it was something else. All Harry knew was that his gut was telling him to dig a little deeper, even if it came at the wrath of the handsome football star.

After Nick left for his shift at the radio station, Harry went to his bedroom to change from his pajama pants to his black skinny jeans. He threw on a white v-neck tee before searching for his favorite Green Bay jumper. As he pushed hangers forward to get to back of the smaller-than-he’d-like wardrobe, he spotted something. Something that would make a perfect gift for Louis if Harry could muster the courage to give it up himself.

A few moments later, the gift was lying flat on Harry’s bed, as he put on his socks and gray snow boots. Shrugging on his coat, and pulling his Green Bay beanie over his mop of curls before pulling on his leather gloves, he grabbed a small thermos full of coffee from the kitchen and made his way out into the storm. Inwardly his brain kept telling himself he was wasting his time and risking his health all for a gift that would likely go unappreciated and he would regret giving away an item he valued so much, yet something nagged at his heart saying that he drew Louis’ name out of the bowl for a reason. Fate perhaps. Or maybe just to test Harry’s patience. He wasn’t sure yet, but he was sure he would find out later that evening.

………………………………...

Louis climbed the wooden ladder in the old used bookstore to get to the top shelf, located just below the store’s ceiling. He scanned the author names until he reached the name Dickens. He pulled out an early edition of _A Tale of Two Cities_ , that was still in good condition considering its age, before making his way slowly down the rickety steps and to the register near the front door.

“Finally taking an interest in some classics are we?” The older lady behind the counter smiled up at him.

“Ah, Dorothy, you know me better than that,” Louis’ replied with a matching grin. “It’s a gift for Liam.”

Louis had frequented the shop at least twice per month since his first week in Ottawa, almost two and a half years earlier. Over time he had gotten to know the family who owned Monroe’s bookstore. Nearly sixty years prior, the shop had been opened by a young couple, Wilbur and Martha Monroe, and for the past twenty-some odd years it had been managed by the couple’s three children: Art, Dorothy, and Judy. Dorothy, who was now in her late sixties, had grown particularly fond of Louis ever since he came in two Decembers ago asking for discount books to give out to sick kids at a nearby hospital, while her sister Judy favored Liam, an English major with a love for classic literature. Louis’ taste, on the other hand, was made up of modern thrillers and mysteries, with a side of an occasional cheesy romance, which Judy referred to as trash. Louis had often thought. however, if Judy had ever witnessed Liam's horrific grammar she would jump ship and join Team Louis alongside her sister.

“I should’ve known,” she answered with a shake of her head. Dorothy took the book from Louis, typed in the price located on the inside cover, and placed it in a small brown paper bag with the store’s name inked on the front. As she handed Louis his change and receipt, she lightly grabbed his wrist to stop him from leaving.

“I just received a new Clive Cussler book a few days ago and I thought you might want it.” She pulled the book from a shelf behind her and handed it to Louis for inspection. He definitely wanted to read it, but it was a hardback and even used it was too expensive for him to buy during the holiday season.

“I’d love to read it, but I think it will have to wait for a month or two unfortunately,” Louis’ forehead formed into a frown as he offered the book back to her.

“Take it. It’s a gift from me to you for being such a loyal customer.”

Louis’ eyes widened. “Dorothy, I can’t just accept that! At least let me pay you half price.”

Dorothy rolled her eyes. “Merry Christmas, Louis. You deserve all the good things in the world. Tell Liam and Zayn I’m sending them happy holiday wishes too.” She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, not for the first time in his years visiting, and pushed him toward the door before he could argue further.

“Happy Christmas, Dorothy!” he called out to her as he stepped outside into the cold. “And thank you so much for the gift!” The snow was still coming down, but it was a little lighter than it had been over the previous two days. Still, many roads were closed and only the businesses where the owners lived in a flat above, or lived within walking distance, were open.

Louis pulled the gray beanie his grandmother had knit for him during the summer down over his ears and wrapped his red and gray plaid scarf around his neck and lower portion of his face to keep the wind from giving him frostbite on his walk back to campus. Just as he was ready to head back to school, he heard the sound of a chime from a door opening in the shop across the snow-drifted street. He turned his head just in time to hear a familiar voice drifting through the frigid air.

It was Harry.

Louis turned his body enough that Harry wouldn’t recognize him. The younger lad was sending holiday wishes to the store clerk as he exited the building. Louis could see out of the corner of his eye that Harry was carrying a roll of metallic red wrapping paper as well as a plastic bag with what Louis thought looked like a box of some sort and what he guessed were other gift wrapping accessories. He wondered what type of gift Harry would be wrapping once he returned to his flat and who would receive said gift. Perhaps it was a small Christmas ornament or a DVD or some socks. Louis thought socks sounded like a wonderful gift, even though most people would be less than impressed with something so mundane. Yet for a poor uni student with more than one pair of holey socks in his dresser drawer, a new package of soft warm socks sounded like heaven.

Well, as long as they weren’t yellow and green with a Green Bay Packers logo on them.

He kept his face turned away until Harry was a block down the street. Then he slowly followed the younger boy back to campus. Louis couldn’t help but chuckle inwardly every time Harry nearly lost his balance in the snow drifts that were covering the pavement. It wasn’t malicious, his inner laughter, but just came from observing the uncoordinated lanky lad. Despite the betrayal of his body to handle walking in the snow, Louis found Harry rather fit, with stunning eyes of green, and dimples so deep you could drink champagne out of them, and that mess of curly chestnut hair that Louis didn’t ever think about running his hands through, or at least he would never admit he’d thought about it since yesterday; more than once.

_If only he weren’t a fake football loving wanker_

No matter how much Louis’ thoughts about Harry betrayed him, he wouldn’t give in to accepting him. He had given in before, and paid the ultimate price. Besides, he had witnessed Harry in conversation with plenty of pretty girls on campus during the semester. He probably wasn’t even gay so Louis had no reason to worry. Louis was better off alone, and certainly better off without the curly lad he watched duck into the door of the radio station ahead of him, but it didn’t make a little daydreaming wrong, or did it?

_He must be visiting Nick_  


_NO_

_Stop thinking about him_

Louis forced himself to think about other, not necessarily better, things. Tomorrow was Christmas Eve, which was a big day for most and an even bigger day for him. Yet, he wouldn’t be spending it with his family like he always had the previous twenty years. Instead, he wouldn’t arrive home until Christmas evening. He tried to tell himself he was an adult and sometimes as an adult you had to miss out on things you would like to do, but he couldn’t shake the sadness that seemed to sit heavy in his chest. He trudged on through the snow, wetness forming behind his eyes, yet not quite surfacing, until he reached the door to his and Zayn’s flat.

“Hey!” Zayn called as Louis stomped on the welcome mat just inside the door and removed his boots. “Did you get your exchange gift?”

“I did,” Louis answered. “And Dorothy sends you and Liam her love.”

“Oh, you stopped by the bookshop?” Zayn questioned. “Now I’m curious as to who you were buying a book for.”

“Why does it smell like cookies in here?” Louis changed the subject as he sniffed the air. His feet soon led him toward the kitchen.

“Nope!” Zayn blocked Louis with his own body from entering the other room. “You don’t get to go in there when I haven’t wrapped my exchange gift yet.”

Louis gave his best friend a knowing look. “Z, did you bake me cookies for the exchange?”

“What?” Zayn asked, a bit flustered. “No, I did not.”

Louis continued to raise his eyebrows while staring Zayn in the eyes.

“I swear I’m not lying.” Zayn responded again. “Well, maybe I’m lying about baking cookies, but they’re not for you. I’m not super great with the Christmas gift thing since I don’t normally celebrate Christmas so I just went with peanut butter cookies. Do you think that’s okay?”

“As long as the person receiving the gift isn’t allergic to peanuts,” Louis replied.

Zayn’s eyes suddenly got as big as saucers. “Shit. I didn’t think about that.” Louis couldn’t help but laugh a little at the look of panic his best friend was now sporting. “I don’t think he’s—shit—maybe I should ask someone else to make sure?”

Louis patted Zayn’s shoulder as he turned to make his way down the corridor to his bedroom with his bags from the bookshop still in hand. He called back to Zayn who was now pacing the living room, while wringing his hands together nervously. “Zayn, it’s the thought that counts. I’m sure whomever gets your cookies will love them!”

Louis spent the next hour trying to wrap Liam’s book with the comic pages from the newspaper. It was tradition for him and Liam to wrap each other’s birthday gifts in the Sunday funnies and then attempt to read them together after they opened them up, so he figured he may as well stick with the tradition for Christmas gifts too. He knew as soon as he arrived at Niall’s in a couple hours Liam would figure out who had his name in the exchange, both by the choice of gift wrap and the fact that the wrapping looked like complete shit. If there was one talent Louis didn’t have, it was wrapping gifts. He always used too much paper and tape and couldn’t ever get the paper to fold the way he wanted it to. Looking down at the hideous presentation he wondered why he hadn’t just asked Zayn to wrap it for him this time.

His phone buzzed and he saw a text from his mum:

**Just wanted to tell you I’ll be thinking about you tomorrow. It won’t feel right not having my baby boy home for his birthday. I’ll see you in two days and we can celebrate then. Love you.**

Louis fought back tears as he placed his phone down on his nightstand. He was thankful he had his boys and Kat to keep his mind occupied tonight. It would be a good night and would make up for how lonely tomorrow would be without his family.

He forced a smile onto his face as he changed into his favorite pair of black skinny jeans and a red cable knit jumper.

Yes, tonight will be fun.

…………………………………………….

Harry and Nick arrived at Niall’s flat just after 5 o’clock. Zayn and Louis were already there, playing FIFA on the telly, and Niall was busy setting up the food for their make-shift Christmas celebration. Lined up on the kitchen counter was a slow cooker full of chili, bowls filled with tortilla chips and shredded cheese to use as toppings for the chili, along with a tray of fruit, and a bowl of pretzels. It wasn’t fine dining by any means but it all looked delicious to Harry.

“There’s beer in the fridge,” Niall pointed out, opening the refrigerator door just long enough for Harry to peak a glance at the bottles. “Kat’s on her way with some chicken wings from Arlo’s Cafe, and Liam called and said he’d be late because of an issue in the dorms.” Harry nodded and made his way over to the pathetic Charlie Brown of a Christmas tree in the corner of the living room and placed his exchange gift underneath, next to three others. Then he sat down next to Zayn on the couch. He had been unable to book a flight that would arrive home before the morning of the twenty-sixth, giving him only a few minutes to see his family before they went on holiday. He wasn’t really feeling the Christmas spirit tonight. Instead, he felt utterly homesick.

Louis whooped as he scored a goal and Harry suppressed a chuckle when he saw Zayn roll his eyes in his direction. Louis, Harry thought, looked stunning in his red jumper and rolled black skinnies. He was barefoot, unlike Zayn and Harry who both had kept their socks on, and Harry wondered if this was by choice or if his socks had got wet on the way over, unlikely as that might be since he lived one door down. There was something about the way the lights from the Christmas tree caught Louis’ blue eyes that made them look like they sparkled, especially when he smiled. Perhaps, he was the most beautiful boy Harry had ever laid eyes upon, which said a lot since he was currently occupying the cushion next to the very definition of the word sexy. There wasn’t a man or woman, gay, straight, or bi, on campus that wasn’t at least a little jealous of Liam. Yet, he could see why the subject of Louis’ sexuality was popular gossip around school. Who wouldn’t be infatuated with him? He owned any room he occupied; always the center of attention even if he wasn’t trying. Still, the other lad’s behavior toward him left a bit of a bad taste in Harry’s mouth. Clearly Zayn, Niall, and Liam loved Louis, so he couldn’t truly be that much of a dick could he?  
…………………………..

An hour later, _Elf_ was on the telly, and Harry’s tummy was full of chili and chicken. Liam had just arrived, explaining that an underage year one student had been caught with alcohol in the dorm where he was a resident advisor, so he had to work things out with the kid before he could leave for Niall’s flat.

Harry moved so that Liam could sit next to his boyfriend and plopped down on his belly on the floor, propping himself with his elbows. He chatted quietly with Niall as the others watched Buddy walk through the candy cane forest on his way to New York City. It was obvious to everyone that Louis knew the movie well and could quote almost every line and usually that sort of thing would drive Harry mad, yet for some reason he found himself frequently smiling up at the other lad. Louis was in his element and fuck was he gorgeous. When the movie reached the shower scene where Buddy and Jovie, the pretty blonde department store employee, sing “Baby, It’s Cold Outside,” Niall unsurprisingly sang along with Jovie’s lines. What was surprising, however, was that Louis joined in to sing Buddy’s lines, his voice a smooth as butter tenor. At the last note, Louis’ eyes met his and Harry quickly averted his gaze and turned his head to hide the blush that had surely broken out across his cheeks.

So this is the real Louis. Charming, funny, sweet, smart...fuck. I think I like him.

After the movie ended, everyone congregated in the kitchen to grab some snacks and another beer. For the first time, Harry felt like he might actually fit in with all of Niall and Kat’s closest mates. Perhaps, even Louis was starting to warm up to Harry’s presence. Harry was happy and it eased his homesickness to be having so much fun.

The fun was over five minutes later.

Niall turned on the Packers game so Harry could watch his team play against Buffalo in a game that would determine whether the Packers would win their division and get home field advantage in the playoffs. It was a big game and Harry was thankful that Niall and the others would sit around and watch a sport they weren’t particularly interested in just for his sake.

Well, everyone but Louis. When the older lad returned to the kitchen from the loo and saw the football game on the telly, it was obvious he wouldn’t stand for it.

“What’s this shit?” Louis pointed at the television in the adjoining room.

“The Green Bay game. I thought Harry would like to watch it, seeing as he’s a big fan and all,” Niall answered.

“Why would we need to watch bloody American football?” Louis asked, his voice sharp, and his eyes slanted as he turned his gaze from Niall over to Harry.

Harry felt his newly found confidence within the group waver. “Look, we can just check the score every once and awhile. I don’t have to watch the whole game.” He begged Louis with his eyes to accept his terms as he took a drink of his beer. Perhaps he would have if Niall had given him the chance.

“Nonsense,” Niall answered. “If the Premier League was on, or the World Cup, Louis would want to watch the entire game. We all would, so you should get to watch the Packers tonight. Right, Lou?”

“I’m not watching that bloody excuse of a sport!” Louis protested, crossing his arms before nodding his head in Harry’s direction. “Especially with him.”

That was all Harry could take. Clearly he had lost his mind when he thought Louis might be a decent bloke after all. He moved around the counter that separated him from the other lad and shoved Louis backward. Louis made a slight oof sound when his backside hit the door of the fridge. Harry held him by the shoulders, pressing his large hands against them so the other boy couldn’t move.

“Get off me!” Louis yelled, trying to move out from under him, but Harry refused to let up.

“What is your fucking problem?” Harry questioned. He couldn’t remember the last time he raised his voice to someone else. It wasn’t in his nature. Niall placed a hand on Harry’s left shoulder, clearly hoping to calm him down, but failing as it was quickly shrugged off.

“You!” Louis shouted back. At this point, Zayn, Liam, Kat, and Nick had gathered around them. For some reason none of them tried to actively pull Harry away. It was as if they were terrified and Harry thought he must look pretty pissed off if they were too afraid to intervene.

“You don’t even know me! Every time I have even so much as glanced at you since I stepped foot on this campus you have either stared me down or rolled your eyes! I don’t know who you think I am, but clearly you’ve mistook me for someone I’m not!”

“Have I?” The volume of the other lad’s voice dropped slightly, suddenly it took on a cool and calculating tone. “Please tell me, Curly. How much pussy can a lad get with that American frat boy act you put on everyday?”

“Lou—,” Zayn attempted to interject as Harry tried to fathom what Louis had just asked him. Once the words deciphered themselves in his brain he leaned in closer so that their foreheads were mere centimeters apart, his hands still pressing into strong shoulders; Louis’ face tilted up just slightly so that his icy blue stare met Harry’s own cold green one. Harry could have sworn that neither of them had blinked even once since the argument began.

Finally he spoke, his voice low and quiet; steady. “I wouldn’t know, because I’m not into pussy.” Harry watched Louis’ jaw tighten as he drew out the last word slowly. “In fact, I’m not even sure I’d know what to do with it if it were ever presented to me,” he added, forcing himself to maintain a surly face. “Surely, you get enough pussy yourself being the star of the soccer, oops I mean football, team? Surely, you just bat those long lashes of yours at the ladies and they drop their trousers right there on the spot?” He drew his own lips into a smile and the look of rage in Louis’ eyes fueled Harry more. In fact, it turned him on. He wanted to press his lips onto the other boy’s beautiful mouth. He wanted to taste his tongue, suck on the base of his neck just above his perfectly carved collar bones; wanted to run his hands up and down Louis’ muscular back; wanted to devour him completely. “Or am I wrong too? Perhaps Niall is the only bloke in this room who wants to stick his cock in a vagina? Do tell, Tommo.”

Louis took a long breath before responding, his voice slow and barely above a whisper. “Fuck,” a beat passed, “you.”

“You started this,” Harry reminded, “or are you saying that’s what you want to do?”

More than one audible gasp could be heard behind Harry. Louis’ face turned an angry shade of red and for the first time his gaze dropped. He fought to break free of Harry’s grip and Harry knew he had invited a fist to the face but he didn’t care because he had gotten under Louis’ skin and he guessed that it wasn’t often that someone else gained the upper hand on Louis Tomlinson.

“That’s enough!” Kat pushed her way through Niall and Zayn to reach them. She pulled on Harry from behind until he begrudgingly let go of the older boy. “You both should wash your filthy mouths out with a bar of soap! I don’t know what your problem is with each other, but you can both take it outside and yell, or slug it out, or fuck, or whatever it is you two need to do to resolve your differences, because I am not going to let you ruin the night for the rest of us!”

Harry waited for a punch that never came. Zayn and Liam each had a hold of one of Louis’ arms. He was obviously still fuming and looking around the room at the faces of everyone else, Harry suddenly felt ashamed. This wasn’t him. He didn’t know why Louis had the ability to unleash so much raw emotion from within him. All he knew was that he had ruined an opportunity at some really great friendships. Surely everyone but Nick would side with Louis and it made him sick to his stomach to think he ruined everyone’s night, even if he was only half at fault for it.

He dropped his head and stared at the kitchen tile. “I’m sorry, everyone. I’ll go so you all can enjoy the rest of your night.” Before he could even head toward the front door, another voice spoke up.

“No, stay. I’ll go.” It was Louis. Harry wasn’t sure but he thought he might have seen a flash of regret in the other lad’s eyes. “I’m not really in the mood for a party anyway and you all should watch the football game. I think I need a date with Bruce Willis and Ben & Jerry’s.”

Harry watched as Louis grabbed his jean jacket off the back of the couch and walked to the door, sliding on his green Adidas trainers before twisting the handle and pulling the door open, a rush of cold air blasting in from outside. “Lou, you don’t have to leave,” Kat called out. “You and I can do something else while the lads watch the game?”

“It’s okay,” Louis voice was small and quiet, so unlike its usual self, and his smile appeared forced. “Happy Christmas everyone,” he called out as he stepped out into the frigid night.

The door closed and Harry and everyone else knew the rest of the night just wouldn’t be the same without the sound of a loud drunken Yorkshire brogue filling the flat.

He opened the fridge and grabbed another beer.

Why did getting so much off his chest suddenly feel so bad?

………………………………….

Louis placed the movie into his DVD player and climbed into bed with a pint of mint chocolate chunk and a spoon. He pulled the blankets up to his chest and hit the play button on the remote. It had been his intention to watch _Die Hard_ and burn off his anger with the Christmas-y action flick, but when it got down to it, he realized he wasn’t really all that angry anymore. Yes, Harry had been a gigantic douche-bag, but hadn’t he reacted like a big d-bag too? So here he was curled up like a little boy watching _How the Grinch Stole Christmas_ in his pajamas (only with ice cream instead of cookies).

In his mind, Harry was the grinch who stole Christmas away from him. It was so easy to blame Harry. He imagined a gigantic red and white target on the curly haired lad’s back. Harry was the epitome of the man-whore, was the bringer of blizzards that ruin birthdays, and was the mean spirited jerk who took away fun times with friends in Louis’ mind. Yet deep down Louis knew the real grinch was him. Harry was just the excuse Louis could use to behave badly; he was the excuse Louis could use to not move on, to continue to feel sorry for himself. He hated Harry, but he didn’t. He wanted to remove him from his life, never see that bloody Packers jacket and beanie again, but did he really? His head felt like it was spinning and just as the Grinch’s heart was growing three sizes at the sounds of joyous celebration down in Whoville, Louis’ eyelids began to feel heavy and soon he was in dreamland, full of fond memories of birthdays and Christmases past, not a grinch or a Packers fan in sight.

Three hours later, the sound of a soft rap on his bedroom door, and Zayn’s undeniable accent came drifting into his room, pulling him slowly from sleep.

“Louis, you awake?” Louis squinted as light poured in from the corridor when Zayn opened the door a tick and peered inside.

“I am now,” he responded groggily.

“Sorry.” Zayn answered with an honest tone, as he walked into the room and sat down on the edge of Louis’ bed. “I didn’t mean to wake you, but I heard your telly so I thought you might be awake.” He reached out and brushed a stray piece of fringe away from Louis’ right eye. The sound of “You’re a Mean One, Mr. Grinch,” quietly filled the room, as the main menu of the DVD shown on the television screen.

“Where’s Liam?” Louis questioned with a yawn.

“He went back to the dorm to make sure everything is okay and to grab his bags for the flight tomorrow evening. He’s gonna stay the night here if that’s okay?”

Louis smiled. “You know you don’t have to ask me for permission. I love you both and would never tell Liam he can’t stay here.”

“I know, but I just wanted to be polite. Honestly, I would probably just tell you to fuck off if you ever told me Liam couldn’t stay here,” Zayn admitted.

This drew a laugh out of Louis, and it felt good inside to genuinely laugh. There had been too little laughter in his life as of late.

“Lou, you alright?” Zayn asked once Louis’ laughter died down and the room took on an eerie silence. His tone was serious but also calm and comforting, the only voice, only person, who could make Louis feel at ease when he was in pain. For all of Liam’s trying he could never calm Louis down the way Zayn could, even though Louis had come to value Liam’s friendship just as much.

“I’m fine,” Louis tried to reassure his best mate but he could see in Zayn’s eyes that he hadn’t convinced him. “I’m sorry for what happened. I should’ve just kept me mouth shut when Harry wanted to watch the football game, but you know me, I’m physically incapable of letting things go.”

Zayn nodded with a knowing smile. He placed a hand on Louis’ shoulder. “You know, Harry’s not him, right?”

“What?”

“Lou, you know Harry’s not Chase?” Zayn took a deep breath before continuing, as Louis’ head snapped up at the mention of the now long forbidden name. “I know there’s similarities, but Harry really seems like a decent lad. I think maybe you should give him a chance—at friendship—instead of pushing him away over and over again. He might surprise you.”

“How do you know, Z?” Louis asked. “How do you know that he’s not just a gigantic dickhead? I mean you saw what he did to me tonight? That’s not the actions of a ‘decent lad’ in my book.”

“We all talked after you left and he felt terrible about what happened. He hadn’t meant to blow up at you the way he did. I think he was just frustrated and confused by the way you have treated him these past couple days.”

Louis rubbed his eyes and the bridge of his nose with his fingers. “I don’t know. I’ll think about it.” That was all he could offer Zayn, because deep down the pain remained from a time not that long ago when he had been burned by trusting too much.

Zayn leaned in and squeezed Louis tight. “That’s a good place to start,” he whispered into Louis’ neck as they held onto one another for a few seconds longer. “See ya in the morning.”

“Night,” Louis responded as they pulled away and Zayn quickly slipped out of the room. Louis sat with his back against the headboard of his bed for a long while, lost in his own thoughts. He had barely heard Liam arrive and it was only when the sound of moaning and impending ecstasy wafted into Louis’ bedroom that he snapped out of his thoughts and sought to find an escape, not from his best mates’ sexual endeavors, but from the sound of obvious happiness. He ended up sitting on the outside stairs that lead to the upstairs flats, a cigarette in between his right index and middle fingers. He flicked at it with one finger and some burning ash fell away and onto the cement near his trainers. The frigid air squeezed at his lungs, or perhaps it was simply the poison he was periodically puffing. He hated smoking, a habit he picked up not even one full year earlier, from the man he had been trying to forget. He wasn’t a chain smoker, not yet anyway, but when he was feeling down it provided some relief, especially when he was alone. It certainly kept him from over indulging on ice cream or other junk food and for that much he was grateful, and he was even more sure his footie coach was too.

He leaned his head against the metal handrail, let his eyes drift shut, and focused on the feel of the wet snowflakes landing on his face. The blizzard had moved on, the snow only light flurries at that point, yet the storm within Louis’ muddled mind continued on. How could one feel so miserable this time of year? He wondered if his heart would ever heal and if he could ever learn to trust someone, other than his family and closest friends, again. Perhaps, he would die an old man, forever a bachelor, never having had the chance to experience true love, simply because he couldn’t open up his heart enough to let love in. He let out an audible moan at the thought and made to get up when he heard quiet voices and a closing door below. Were Zayn or Liam searching for him or had they stepped outside for a smoke break too? Was it Kat leaving to go back to her flat instead of staying the night at Niall’s? The answer was revealed a moment later when he spotted a pair of boots and tight black jeans come into view, heading straight for the stairs on which he was currently sitting.

“Fuck,” was all he had time to mutter under his breath before the someone approaching spotted him too.


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

December 24th

 

“Shit,” he murmured in his own head at the sight of his apparent enemy sitting near the top of the stairs that lead up to his flat. He gripped the gifts he was carrying tight in his hands as he forced a smile onto his face and approached the bottom step.

“Hey,” he said to the older lad. Halfway up the steps he tripped and nearly lost the packages. “Oops,” he let out a small laugh, embarrassed by his constant clumsiness.

A small chuckle escaped Louis’ mouth in what Harry thought an unexpected reaction. He prepared for the worst but instead got an even more unanticipated response. “Hi.”

They stared at one another for a rather uncomfortable few seconds before Harry dug down deep to find the courage to speak. “Do you mind if I sit down next to you for a minute?”

Louis patted the step with his hand as a way of offering up the seat and Harry was quick to take it. “You want a smoke?” Louis asked, picking his pack of Marlboros up from beside him.

“No. I don’t smoke actually,” Harry answered, trying not to sound judgmental.

Louis nodded before taking a drag from his own cig, blowing the smoke back out a moment later. “Of course you don’t.”

There it was again. The sarcasm, the constant distaste for all things Harry. He didn’t want to do this anymore, but it seemed Louis did. “Um, can we not—?”

He watched as Louis dropped his head and stared at his own feet. “Yeah, okay,” his voice soft and resigned.

They sat in silence for awhile, Harry focused on the visible breaths leaving his mouth with each exhale. Fuck, it was cold outside, but then again it was Canada in December. Finally, he cleared his throat to speak. “You left before we opened gifts and I, uh, had your name in the exchange, so this is yours.” He handed the rectangular shaped package (perfectly wrapped in red foil Christmas paper with a large silver bow and a Santa Claus tag) to Louis. Their fingers brushed for a brief moment during the exchange and it sent a shiver down Harry’s spine. What was it about this boy that made him feel so much?

“Thanks,” Louis replied, sitting the gift down on his lap. “I probably don’t deserve this though, with the way I’ve acted toward you.”

Harry took a deep breath and forced himself to turn and look the other boy straight in the eyes. “Look, we’ve both been dickheads and for the record I want to say that I’m sorry about what happened tonight. That’s not me. I’m not the kind of lad that acts out physically in anger or uses that kind of language, or makes assumptions about someone else’s sexuality. I don’t know why, but you just really pushed my buttons and I lost it, but that’s not an excuse for how wrong I was in my actions. Louis, I want you to know that I’ve never tried to be anyone besides myself since I’ve been here at school. I’m not faking anything and maybe I do come off a bit of a frat boy with the Green Bay love, but it’s just part of who I am. I have my reasons for dressing how I do, just like I’m sure you have your reasons for basically sponsoring Adidas with your clothing.

Louis threw his head back and let out a real laugh, much to Harry’s delight. “Yeah, well the football team all wear Adidas kits, so I have a valid excuse. I just can’t understand betraying your own country for American football. I mean, why not just move to the States if you’re so passionate about it?”

A smile formed on Harry’s face. “Maybe I have a legit reason for liking American football and a good reason for being here in Canada and you just don’t know it?”

“Is that so?” Louis asked, a teasing tone in his voice. “I don’t believe that, Curly. I think you’re just a sell-out.”

“Shut up and open your gift already!”

“Okay! Okay!” Louis held his hands up in surrender and Harry thought he looked truly beautiful with a genuine toothy smile and his blue winter parka working to emphasize his eyes. He watched as Louis ripped the paper away, revealing a plain white box below it. He slipped his fingers under the tape that held the box together on each end, breaking it, and pulled the top off to reveal green tissue paper below it. Harry held his breath, waiting in anticipation for Louis to pull back the tissue paper and reveal the gift. It only took a few seconds. He watched Louis carefully as he realized what was inside. A large smile crossed his face as he pulled the red Nike England National Team jacket from the box. He held it up in front of him, examining it, a sparkle in his eye.

“Harry, wow! This is amazing! I know how expensive this must have been though, and we weren’t supposed to spend much. I can’t accept this, especially after the arse I’ve been.”

“I think that’s the first time you’ve actually ever called me by my name,” Harry realized aloud.

“Don’t get used to it. I’m rather fond of Curly,” Louis smiled., “but really I can’t take this gift. It’s too much.”

“Will you keep it if I tell you I didn’t spend a penny on it?”

Louis’ eyes slanted as if studying Harry’s face in hopes of determining whether Harry was in fact telling the truth. “Wait! Did someone give this to you and you’re re-gifting it to me?”

“Maybe,” Harry answered, “but I promise you that it means a great deal to me. Yet, I think a little Christmas angel somewhere whispered in my ear when I saw it in my wardrobe. She kept telling me that I should give the jacket to you. I don’t know why and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have second thoughts about it, but deep down I knew you were the owner this jacket deserved, not me. So do me a favor and take good care of it.”

“I will,” Louis’ tone was genuine. “I promise. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

They sat in silence that was neither comfortable nor uncomfortable for a few minutes. Louis continued to admire the jacket and Harry picked at a hole in his black skinnies. Eventually Louis spoke again.

“So, what gift did you get?”

Harry jerked his head up to look at the older lad, surprised by the question breaking the quiet between them, as well as the quiet serenity of the campus surrounding them. “Erm…,” he mumbled while he pulled his gift out of a small green bag, “a Packers coffee mug.”

“Who on God’s green earth found a Green Bay mug in Ontario in the middle of a blizzard?” Louis asked in amazement. “There’s no way it could’ve been overnight shipped.”

Harry chuckled. “Kat.”

“Where did she find it?”

“I don’t know. I asked her, but she refused to give up the info.”

Louis shook his head. “I shouldn’t be surprised. That girl is crafty I tell ya. Niall would be crazy to ever let her get away.”

“Well, there’s something we can agree on,” Harry replied with a grin.

“I guess it is,” Louis remarked, nearby Christmas lights strung around the frame of a window reflected a multitude of colors in the other boy’s eyes. Harry found himself transfixed, struggling to break free and ground himself once again. “Look, Curly...”

“Ah, there’s the nickname again,” Harry interrupted, an air of lightness in his voice.

Louis rolled his eyes before continuing, “I don’t say this very often, and don’t let it go to your head, but I think maybe I misjudged you and for that I’m sorry. You seem like you might be a decent lad after all, despite your dreadful taste in sports, and I think maybe we should put aside our differences, at least for the sake of our mates. What do you say?” He held out a hand for Harry to shake.

“Okay, I can agree to that,” Harry shook Louis’ outstretched hand, “however I will never stop wearing my Packers’ snap-backs, beanies, or jumpers, no matter how much you want to get sick when you see them.”

Louis laughed. “Ugh, I was really hoping you’d give them up for my sake, but I guess I’ll just have to live with them.”

For the first time, Harry felt like he and Louis were truly becoming comfortable with one another. Yet somewhere deep behind the sapphire blue pools of the older lad’s eyes Harry could detect sadness and hurt and he felt an urge to push a little more, in hopes that maybe Louis would open up to him. Maybe it was wrong of him to expect someone he barely knew to bare his heart and soul, but for some reason Harry just felt as if he needed to know more about the cautious boy sitting beside him.

“So, why were you sitting out here in the cold all by yourself anyway?”

“Um...let’s just say that I didn’t want to hear the noises coming from Zayn’s room.”

“Okay,” Harry replied slowly, not sure at first what Louis was getting at before it hit him a moment later. “Oh...okay...yeah.”

He expected Louis to get in a dig at his denseness; however, the other boy said nothing, only sat staring at the stairs below him.

“What time is it?” Louis asked after a minute or two.

Harry looked at the watch on his left wrist. “Just after midnight. I guess it’s officially Christmas Eve now.”

Louis sighed. “It’s my birthday now.”

“What?” Harry asked, surprised at the sudden admission. “Are you serious?”

“Dead serious,” Louis voice was barely more than a murmur. “Shitty day to be born on, but it’s all I’ve ever known, and instead of being able to celebrate it with me family, I’m stuck here for another 36 hours.”

“How old are you?” Harry wondered aloud.

“Twenty-one.”

“Happy twenty-first birthday Louis.”

“Thanks, Curly.” The frown in Louis’ forehead seemed to ease a little.

“If it makes you feel any better, I’m flying home to an empty house the day after Christmas. I won’t even get to see my family for more than a few minutes.”

“Why?” Louis questioned, his interest now clearly piqued.

“My parents are flying to Florida for holiday and my sister is going on a skiing holiday in France. I’ll be all alone in our big empty house.”

“I’m sorry,” Louis replied, placing his left hand on Harry’s right shoulder. “There’s no way you could fly to Florida or join your sister in France?”

Harry shook his head. “Gemma—my sister—doesn’t want her little brother tagging along on her girl time, I’m sure, and Florida is—well—isn’t a possibility. So, it will be just me and myself for a week. There is one good thing though. I’ll get to catch up on some reading.” He let out a weak chuckle.

“I guess we’re both missing out then.” Louis answered, his voice one of understanding.

“I guess so,” Harry agreed. “Hey, if you want to you could sleep at my flat tonight? Nick’s probably already asleep. I was just going to watch a movie before bed. You could crash on the sofa.”

Louis’ responded quickly, looking like a deer in headlights and tripping over his words a bit. “I’m—I—I’m sure Zayn and Liam are sleeping by now. Probably. Maybe.”

“It’s really not a big deal. You’re welcome to stay with me and Nick.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to impose,” Louis responded.

“It’s no problem at all,” Harry insisted.

Louis shrugged. “Sure, why not?”

A few minutes later, the duo were standing inside Harry’s flat, shrugging off their coats and slipping off their shoes.

“Would you like some cocoa? I love it on cold winter nights.”

“You wouldn’t happen to have some tea would you?” Louis asked.

“Of course. I’ll make some right now,” Harry replied, insistent on being a polite host.

“You are British after all!” Louis exclaimed, mockingly.

“Ha ha,” Harry responded with a dry tone. “So, would you like to watch my favorite Christmas movie with me?”

“That depends,” Louis answered. “What’s your favorite Christmas movie?”

Harry’s lips turned upward slowly into a large smile. “ _Love Actually_.”

Louis groaned. “I should’ve guessed that your bad taste in sports extended to your taste in movies as well.”

Harry wasn’t sure if Louis was being sarcastic or not, but he hoped their truce remained intact.

“You are a gigantic NFL loving, pool hustling, sap aren’t you? I bet you fall asleep every night listening to cheesy power ballads from the ‘80s don’t you? Or—wait—romantic holiday songs about wishing the one you loved would come home for Christmas this year?”

“Shut up,” Harry replied, a smidgen of irritation in his voice. Was it possible that Louis had not one ounce of sensitivity in his body?

Louis’ face softened. “Sorry, mate. It’s just, there’s so many great Christmas movies and you choose _Love Actually_ as your favorite?”

“As opposed to what?” Harry asked. “ _Gremlins_?”

“Hey, _Gremlins_ is a classic, or _Die Hard_ , or what’s that one Christmas movie with Billy Bob Thornton in it?”

“ _Bad Santa_?”

“Yes! That movie is hilarious!”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Whatever. I guess we’ll have to agree to disagree. So are you going to suffer through the movie with me or not?”

“Well, I suppose since it does have some respectable actors in it, and because I have absolutely nothing else to do, I’m in.”

“Okay then, I’ll pop some popcorn and make some tea.”

A few hours later as the credits rolled, Louis, who was stretched out on his stomach on the floor next to Harry, let out a long yawn, and Harry couldn’t help but turn away from the older lad and smile. How could anyone look so cute while doing something as mundane as yawning? His smile also stemmed from the fact that he had caught Louis several times laughing at all the funniest parts of the movie, and his face had a plastered on smile throughout the flick. He even sang along with Harry during the songs once or twice. Perhaps, Louis Tomlinson had actually enjoyed the movie?

Perhaps, he enjoyed it because he was watching it with Harry?

Harry, got up and grabbed some blankets for Louis, leaving them on the sofa. He said goodnight and then made his way to his own bedroom for sleep. It took him a long while to drift off when all he could think about was the perfect shade of blue that made up the eyes of the boy sleeping just down the corridor, about the perfect shade of pink that made up his lips, and about the perfect curve of his cheekbones.

…………………………………

Louis awoke to a most heavenly scent. At first he thought he must be at home in England and his mum would call him downstairs for breakfast any moment, but after a few moments his face registered the feeling of leather below his head instead of a soft pillow and the events of the previous night drifted back into memory. His eyes fluttered open and he lay there for a while just staring at the back of the couch, wondering how he got from despising the wannabe frat boy from upstairs to befriending him in a matter of hours. Eventually his stomach began to growl and he let his nose lead him into the kitchen where Harry was frying up bacon in a skillet, a red ‘Kiss the Cook’ apron over his plain white t-shirt and black joggers. A stack of pancakes sat on the table ready to be devoured.

“Good morning!” Harry called to him. “You like pancakes and bacon right?”

“Who doesn’t?” Louis answered, boosting himself up to sit on the counter next to where Harry was cooking. “Do you make a breakfast like this every morning or is this a special occasion?”

“Probably a few times a week,” Harry answered, and Louis tried not to look disappointed by the younger lad’s response. “But I figure Christmas Eve warrants something more than cold cereal, not to mention something a little birdie told me last night about the birthday of a certain someone that happens to be sitting right next to me.”

Louis rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t keep the smile off his face. It was nice to have someone to share a few moments of his birthday with since he couldn’t be home with his mum and sisters. He would never admit it out loud, but he had enjoyed watching the movie the night before with Harry. They laughed together and sang “All I Want for Christmas is You” along with the character Joanna in the film. Much to Louis’ surprise, Harry had a wonderful singing voice and it blended effortlessly with Louis’ tenor. It was a good night. So, maybe this boy from Cheshire wasn’t such a dickhead after all. Maybe taking a chance at a friendship with the curly haired lad was worth it? Deep down Louis wondered if maybe the stirring in his stomach when he looked into Harry’s green eyes indicated that just a friendship wasn’t the only thing he might be willing to take a chance on?

“Sit down and help yourself,” Harry pulled Louis from his thoughts. Had he been staring at the other boy? He hoped not long enough to be noticeable.

Louis, still dressed in his red and black flannel pajamas from the previous night, jumped down from the counter and sat down at the table. “So, where’s Nick?”

“He already left to go to the station.”

Louis nodded. He looked around the kitchen and took notice of the small yuletide decorations. There were Santa and Mrs. Claus salt and pepper shakers on the windowsill above the stove, a snowman designed dish towel draped over the oven handle, and a small potted poinsettia placed in the center of the kitchen table. Christmas cards were hung on the refrigerator with magnets. Louis had already admired the six foot tall Christmas tree in one corner of the living room before he went to sleep the night before.

“Your flat is very festive. I like it.”

“Thanks,” Harry replied, turning around to face him. “Yours isn’t?”

Louis let out a small laugh. “No, not at all. Zayn is Muslim and doesn’t really celebrate Christmas and Javier finished finals early to go home to his ailing grandmother in Portugal so I guess I didn’t see much reason to decorate, especially since I was supposed to fly home too. Plus, I’m a poor uni student y’know?”

“Well, Ed and I decided to decorate for Nick’s sake, since he was staying here to help run the radio station instead of going home. I know he misses his family but it was so kind of him to let all of the other students who work at the station go home for the holidays. We wanted to bring some Christmas cheer to our flat so he wouldn’t feel so alone.”

“That’s really nice. You must be great flatmates.”

Harry brought a plate of bacon over and placed it on the table, before pulling out a chair and sitting down at the table opposite Louis. They ate together mostly in silence with some occasional chit chat about movies and music mixed in. It was almost noon before Louis walked through the door of his own flat.

“Where have you been? You were gone before Liam and I even got up this morning?” Zayn asked from the living room where he was double checking to make sure he had everything he needed for his flight home that evening.

Louis could hear the sound of the shower coming from their bathroom, so he figured Liam was cleaning up before their long trip. “I slept at Harry’s.”

Zayn’s eyes widened to an almost comical size.

“You what?”

“I slept at Harry’s last night.”

Zayn took a step closer to Louis and placed a hand on his best friend’s forearm. “Tommo, I know I told you it might be a good thing to give Harry a chance, but I didn’t mean you should sleep with him.”

Louis suppressed a laugh. “I didn’t sleep with him! We watched a movie and I slept on his sofa. Fuck Z, do you really think so much of me that I’d jump into bed with me sworn enemy?”

A slight look of embarrassment crossed his best friend’s face. “No, Lou, of course not, but I mean he is really hot. Surely, even you can see that.”

Louis shook his head and moved past Zayn without a word. He made his way to his bedroom in order to pack his bags for his own flight home the next morning. Beforehand, he checked his phone for any messages and there were none. No one had left a birthday message for him. Zayn hadn’t mentioned it either, despite the fact that he had already given Louis a birthday gift (he paid for them to get new matching tattoos of their uni flat number on their forearms) almost a week earlier. At least Harry had made him breakfast earlier which counted for something. Yet, Louis couldn’t help but feel sad that his birthday had somehow been forgotten. It wouldn’t have been if he were home. His mum had always went out of her way to make sure the twenty-fourth of December was about his birthday and that Christmas could wait until the twenty-fifth.

A much needed shower seemed to cleanse not just his body, but also his mind. As he was making his way back to his bedroom with nothing but a navy blue towel wrapped around his waist, the doorbell rang. Who in the world would be ringing their bell in the middle of the day on Christmas Eve and what was that delicious smell in the air?

“Louis, can you get the door?” Liam called from the kitchen.

“I’m not even dressed,” Louis called back. “Can’t one of you answer it?”

“Please?” Liam begged this time.

“Alright, alright,” Louis groaned as he walked down the corridor, through the living room, and to the front door. He turned the door handle only to find Niall standing in front of him, a present wrapped in Christmas paper under one arm, and a bag of what looked to be a loaf of french bread under his other.

Niall took one look at Louis and raised his eyebrows with a mischievous look. “Is this a clothing optional party? Because I’ll have you know, Tommo, that I’m a little uncomfortable with stripping down to my skivvies in front of me mates, no matter how much I like you.”

Louis felt confused. He had no idea what was going on. “What party? And no you don’t. I’ve seen you in nothing more than your pants plenty of times. All you need is a few drinks mate and you’ll be halfway there.”

Niall simply gave him a quick wink and pushed his way past Louis and toward the kitchen. Louis closed the door and followed him.

“Where’s Kat?”

“On a flight to Alberta. She wanted me to give you this though. He stopped and juggled the bread into the same arm as the gift he was holding, so that he had a free hand. He reached into his right coat pocket and pulled out a small package wrapped in blue tissue paper, handing it to Louis. “She requested that you open it in private. Erm, you don’t have anything going on with my girlfriend behind me back do you?” Niall glared at Louis, but Louis could tell that deep down the Irish lad was just pretending.

“Do I really have to answer that question, Nialler?”

Niall’s couldn’t hold the facade any longer. A large smile broke out on his face. “No, I’m just messin’ with ya, mate. I trust you both completely.”

They pushed open the kitchen door and the smell of parmesan chicken hit Louis’ nostrils like a smack in the face. Liam could only make two meals: mushroom pork chops and parmesan chicken. He wasn’t a chef by any means, but damn it if those two meals weren’t delicious. Just the scent was enough to make Louis’ mouth water and his stomach rumble with hunger.

“What’s going on in here lads? Don’t you have to be at the airport in like three hours?”

“Yeah, but there’s still plenty of time for a celebration lunch with our mates.” Zayn answered while pulling several bottles of beer from the fridge and setting them on the counter.

No sooner did Zayn speak than the kitchen door swung open once again. “What’s this I hear about celebrating?” Nick’s voice rang out. Louis turned and nearly knocked a bowl of fruit salad from the disc jockey’s hands.

Following Nick into the kitchen was Harry, who was carrying a round chocolate cake on a platter.

“Did you make that cake from scratch?” He asked.

Harry smiled. “I did.”

Louis would’ve had to be blind to miss the way the other lad’s eyes drifted from Louis’ face down to his bare torso and back up again. He felt a slight blush in his cheeks that only intensified when Harry leaned in briefly and whispered “Happy Birthday” before pulling away with a twinkle in each eye.

“Thanks,” he replied so softly he didn’t think any of the other lads noticed. “I—uh—should get dressed.”

He excused himself, and once in his bedroom, he closed the door, and leaned back against it for a moment to recover from the sound of Harry’s deep whisper and his big beautiful lips having been so close to Louis’ ear. What was it about this boy that suddenly made Louis feel like he was losing control of himself? He slipped Kat’s gift into his carry on bag for his flight the next morning and then pulled on some underpants, skinny jeans, and a red jumper. He quickly combed his fringe out of his face, hoping that it didn’t look too disheveled, and took a deep breath before returning to his mates, who were now all sitting around the rectangular kitchen table.

Louis sat down next to Niall and across from Harry. “Food looks delicious,” he stated before reaching for a slice of the french bread.

Much to Louis’ surprise, Zayn quickly stood up and held his beer bottle in the air. “Before we eat, I’d like to propose a toast to my best friend on his twenty-first birthday. Louis, you are the greatest mate a lad could ever dream of having, and you’re a world class human being. Here’s wishing you many more happy birthdays to come!”

“Here! Here!” The other lads raised their bottles and clinked them together before taking a drink. Louis reluctantly clinked his own bottle against Niall’s when offered.

“Wait, this is all for me?” Louis asked while gesturing to the table full of food. His voice was full of honest surprise.

“Of course,” Liam answered. “You didn’t think we’d let you spend your whole birthday alone did you?”

Louis suddenly felt simultaneously happy and guilty. He really had the best mates that he didn’t deserve, because he had believed that they would abandon him on his birthday. Who could blame them if they did? It’s Christmas Eve and most of them had flights to catch later that day. He shrugged.

“Well, we would never,” Zayn replied, his light brown eyes staring into Louis’ own blue ones as if to make sure Louis knew he was serious.

“Yeah, we love ya Tommo,” Niall added, putting an arm around Louis’ shoulders and giving a light squeeze.

The dinner was delicious, and Louis was surprised again when the lads placed candles on Harry’s cake and sang “Happy Birthday” to him. He made a silent wish, and blew out all of the candles with one blow. Harry served the cake to everyone and Liam added a scoop of vanilla bean ice cream and they all chatted and laughed and Louis opened his gifts from Niall and Nick (a Led Zeppelin t-shirt and an Itunes gift card) and before long time was getting short as Zayn, Liam, and Niall would soon have to leave for the airport.

Zayn placed the dirty dishes on the counter near the sink and started running water to wash them.

“Z, I’ll get them,” Louis stood from his chair. “It’s the least I can do after you all threw me this surprise party.”

“Louis, it’s no problem,” Zayn replied. “Liam and I can wash them quick before we have to leave.”

“No, I insist,” Louis answered back.

Zayn gave Louis a frustrated look, but handed a sponge over to him anyway.

“I can stay and help,” Harry spoke up, walking over to Louis and Zayn. “If you don’t mind, I mean?” His eyes questioning as he looked at Louis.

Louis swallowed. Half of him wanted to scream “no” in response, that being around one another was too conflicting for Louis, but the other half of him wanted nothing more than to get to know the lad with the curly locks and sea green eyes and muscular arms better. Much better.

His sharp tongue was suddenly nowhere to be found, nor were any words at all. Louis simply shook his head to convey that he didn’t mind, all the while holding Harry’s stare.

A short while later, Zayn, Liam, and Niall had left for the airport, and Nick had left for the radio station, to relieve Greg so he could spend his evening with family. They stood side-by-side, Louis washed the dishes and Harry dried them and put them away (having to ask Louis which drawer or cabinet each item belonged in). Once they finished, they stood around in awkward silence for a few minutes.

“So, um, when are you flying home?” Louis finally spoke up.

“Tomorrow night,” Harry responded. “It was the earliest flight I could book unfortunately.”

“So, if you don’t have any plans, I thought maybe we could just hangout?”

He saw just a hint of a smile cross the other boy’s face. “I’d like that. As long as you promise not to make fun of my clothes or the Packers.”

Louis let out a small laugh. “That’s asking a lot, Curly, but I think I can manage, as long as you still let me call you Curly and you don’t mind me going on and on about football.”

“Will there ever come a day when you don’t call me Curly?”

“Never,” Louis answered bluntly.

“Then I guess I have no choice,” Harry responded with a shrug.

“Well, you could leave?”

The smile Harry had been wearing fell and his face morphed into something almost too serious for the moment. His voice quiet. “I don’t want to leave.”

Louis’ gaze dropped to Harry’s socked feet. Why was there suddenly so much tension in the room? Before things could get even more uncomfortable between them, he cleared his throat and found his confidence again.

“Well, I do,” he responded, once again looking the younger lad in the eyes. “Get your coat. We’re going out. Do you like coffee?”

“I could go for an espresso,” Harry’s smile returned. “Someone kept me up late last night and then I had to get up early this morning and make a big breakfast and bake a birthday cake. It was all rather exhausting.”

“Shut up,” Louis laughed before turning toward the living room. “Let’s go!”

……………………………………………..

The sun had never felt so good. It had been at least a week since Ottawa had seen even a peek of sunshine and today the sky was crystal clear blue, like the shade of the eyes belonging to the lad walking right next to him. It was still cold as hell, but Harry could deal with the frigid temperatures if it meant getting to feel the sun beaming down on his face. Still, he pulled his Green Bay beanie down further to keep his head and ears warm. Thankfully the snow had all been removed from the pavement so walking wasn’t as treacherous as it had been the previous few days.

They ended up at a small cafe about five blocks from campus. Louis ordered a regular coffee with just a splash of cream and Harry, after about five minutes of indecision, settled on a hazelnut flavored latte. They made their way to a small round table, flanked on opposite sides by tall backless bar stools, near the front window that was lined with blinking multicolored Christmas lights.

“So, Curly,” Louis asked him, “have you figured out your major yet?”

“Biology,” he answered assuredly, “I want to go to med school.”

Louis looked surprised. “Impressive.”

“Thanks,” Harry replied. “What are you majoring in?”

“Psychology,” Louis said before taking a sip of his coffee. “It took me awhile to settle on it. At first I was a sports therapy major, but, after taking a few psychology classes and doing some volunteer work at the youth recreational center a few blocks from here, I realized I really wanted to have a career that helps kids. So, the ultimate goal is to become a licensed child psychologist.”

“Also impressive,” Harry replied, “and admirable, and also kinda hot.” Did he really just let those words slip from his mouth? He did and he immediately regretted it. For all he knew Louis might be grossed out by the idea of another bloke flirting with him. He hoped not, but homophobia did exist and if Louis was straight who knows how he would react. The fact that he had two gay best mates was a good sign that wouldn’t happen, right?

Harry slowly lifted his eyes from where he had been staring at the table up to Louis’ face. To his surprise there was no shock there; maybe a slight tinge of pink in the cheeks, but no obvious hostility. Nevertheless he felt the need to apologize.

“I’m sorry,” he started. “I shouldn’t have added that last part. That was…”

“It’s okay. I mean, I would find someone attractive who wanted their career to involve working with children or helping other people.”

Harry smiled before sighing in relief. “Look, we have something in common.”

“Yeah, we do.”

“Okay, my turn at 20 questions. What is your favorite color?”

“Blue, because it’s the color of me eyes, and the color of the sky, and because it’s the color of my favorite Care Bear. Grumpy Bear to be exact.”

Harry let out a barking laugh and quickly covered his mouth before the half dozen or so other cafe patrons turned to stare at him. “You have a favorite Care Bear?”

“Fuck, yeah!” Louis exclaimed. “Have you ever watched the cartoon? Grumpy Bear is my spirit animal.”

“Well, it certainly wouldn’t be Funshine Bear,” Harry half-teased.

“Hey! I’ll have you know I am a very sunny person when I want to be, but I suppose Funshine would be a better fit for someone like Liam.”

“What about Zayn and Niall?”

“Zayn’s definitely Bedtime Bear ‘cause the lad loves his beauty sleep and do I even need to answer for Niall? He’s a bloody leprechaun so he has to be the green bear with the four leaf clover on his belly, yeah?”

“I suppose so,” Harry chuckled. “What about Kat?”

“Aww, sweet Kathleen.” Louis rested his chin on top of his folded hands and paused to think awhile before answering. “I think she’s Tender Heart, because she has one of the biggest hearts I know, but she is also a natural born leader. She’s bound for greatness.”

“Wow, I think that may be the kindest words I’ve ever heard come out of your mouth.”

“Well, believe it or not, I’m not a gigantic twat.”

They both smiled at that and took sips of their beverages. “What about me?” Harry asked, desperate to know what Louis truly thought of him.

“Isn’t it obvious to you?”

“Erm—no?” Harry answered. “I’ve never sat around pondering who my Care Bear spirit animal is though so forgive me for not realizing it right away.”

“God, when you say it that way I suddenly feel like a complete loser,” Louis responded, making an L sign with his right hand and placing it on his forehead. Yet, a moment later he answered. “Curly, you are definitely Cheer Bear.”

“Cheer Bear?” Harry questioned, genuinely curious. “Why?”

Louis stared at Harry’s hands, only glancing up to his eyes once every handful of words, his voice almost timid. “Because you have the best smile I’ve ever seen and when you walk into a room everyone suddenly seems happier. You would totally be able to pull off wearing bright pink and, well, you know, a rainbow is a pretty obvious fit for a gay man, but also for some reason you just feel like the beautiful promise after the storm.”

“Well, I do always say that rainbow is my favorite color,” Harry responded, his palms suddenly feeling sweaty and his heart beating a little faster after hearing Louis’ honest words. He wiped his hands on his jeans under the table.

“See, I told you so,” Harry felt a nudge from Louis’ foot.

“Thanks,” Harry replied. “Those were the nicest words anyone has said to me in a long while. It means a lot coming from you—my mortal enemy.”

“You know what’s nice about mortal enemies?” Louis asked, hands wrapped around his coffee cup.

“What?” Harry replied.

“They can always put aside their differences and become friends.”

What was happening? Where did this side of Louis Tomlinson come from? What happened to the lad who had thrown dirty looks Harry’s way for weeks, who had insulted him every chance he got? Had Harry officially cracked Louis’ tough exterior? He was beginning to think so, and it was an opportunity that Harry intended to take advantage of, because physical attraction aside, Harry really did want to be friends with the boy sitting across from him.

“Yes, they can,” he responded once he was able to pull himself from his inner thoughts.

“Any ideas for where to go next?” Louis asked as he finished the last of his coffee. “We could go back to my flat if you want and eat leftovers and watch telly?”

“Actually, I saw this morning that the old theater downtown is showing classic holiday movies tonight. I thought maybe the 1951 version of A Christmas Carol might be a good watch. What do you think?

“Why not? Somehow I think some Charles Dickens is exactly what I need tonight when I’m an ocean away from England.”

Harry agreed.

Three and a half hours later the movie was over, clouds had moved in as the sun had long set in the west, and Harry wondered as they walked down the pavement in search of a place to eat dinner if Dickens had in fact helped Louis’ homesickness because for Harry it had only served to make his longing for home stronger. Yet, here he was walking around downtown Ottawa next to a beautiful British boy who, as it turned out, wasn’t all that different from him. Louis was good company and things could be a lot worse. Not that long ago he had envisioned walking down these streets alongside someone else. Not that long ago he would’ve imagined jetting off to Florida with his mum, step dad, and big sister the day after Christmas. Not that long ago he didn’t know a hole would be left in his heart so big he didn’t think it could be filled. But, somehow, for the first time in a long time, despite his desire to see his family, to sleep in his old bed, to visit the quaint bakery he had worked at for a couple years prior to university, he felt he might actually belong in this world and that he hadn’t made a massive mistake by choosing to study in Canada. He glanced at the lad silently strolling beside him, pulled down on his Green Bay beanie once again, and whispered a silent prayer of gratitude as tiny specks of snow began to fall from the sky.

They managed to find a small Thai restaurant that was open late, despite the holiday. The meal was spent arguing over who the best Premier League player was and which team would claim the next championship.

“See? I do like football,” Harry had implored.

“Yeah, yeah, okay,” Louis had tried to brush him off with a wave of one hand but the glimmer in his sapphire eyes had given his enjoyment of the conversation away.

As soon as they were outside of the restaurant Louis hailed the only taxi in sight. “What time is it?” he asked.

Harry glanced at the watch. “Quarter past eleven,” he answered.

“Are you knackered yet?”

“Not particularly, no.”

“”Good,” Louis responded happily before giving the driver the name of a place Harry was unfamiliar with.

“Where are we going?”

“Have you ever heard of Monroe’s used bookshop?”

“Yes. I’ve been there a few times,” Harry answered. “Is that where we are going because surely it’s closed this late on Christmas Eve?”

“No,” Louis replied. “I’ll explain more when we get there in a few minutes. We’ll have to be quick though because we only have until midnight.”

“Why?” Harry questioned further. “What happens at midnight? Do you turn into an ogre and this taxi turn into a pumpkin?”

“You’ll see” was the only response Harry got in return.

………………………………….

The taxi pulled up in front of a large white Victorian style home, decorated from top to bottom with shimmering white Christmas lights. It was the epitome of classy. A beautiful lighted wreath with a large red bow hung on the front door and candles gleamed from every windowsill. Even the pavement that led to the front porch was lined with white lights.

Louis paid the cab driver as Harry opened the door and got out.

“Wow, what is this place?” Louis heard as he was getting out of the cab. He looked up to see Harry admiring the sight in front of them.

“A house,” Louis deadpanned.

Harry rolled his eyes and Louis couldn’t help but chuckle.

“This is the home of Dorothy Monroe-Armstrong, one of the bookshop owners, and her wife, Pauline. Pauline is a retired history professor from our very own esteemed university. They are two of the best people I’ve ever met. We’re not here to see their house though.”

“Oh?”

“C’mon.” Louis instinctively grabbed Harry’s gloved hand with his own and led the younger lad to an open gate on the south side of the property. Even though he couldn’t feel Harry’s skin against his own, he could feel a current of electricity race throughout his hand to the top of his head and down to the tips of of his toes. His entire being seemed to be buzzing and he would’ve been crazy to even dream he’d ever feel like this with someone again. Yet his conscience kept nagging at him that he couldn’t yet trust the boy beside him, so once they found themselves standing in the large garden behind the house, where there were small trees, bushes, and a trellis covered in more white lights. Louis released Harry’s hand, letting his own hand fall to his side. He thought perhaps he had seen a flash of disappointment cross the other lad’s face, which Louis tried unsuccessfully to brush off as nothing.

Louis led the way across the garden to a path that led into a wooded area. Golden star shaped lights hung from the tree branches above them, lighting the way. About midway through, the shadow of two bodies could be seen coming from the other direction. As they got closer, Louis smiled.

“Louis, is that you?” a voice asked.

“Dorothy!” he exclaimed, running a bit ahead of Harry to draw the older lady into a hug. “Pauline, it’s so nice to see you, love,” he said before giving the other taller woman a hug as well.

“Louis, it’s been so long,” Pauline replied with a slight French-Canadian accent. “How have you been?”

“I’ve been good,” he mostly lied.

“I thought you were flying home for the holidays?” Dorothy asked.

“The blizzard delayed my trip until tomorrow morning,” he answered. “Um, I’d like you both to meet Harry Styles. He’s…,” he paused for just a moment. “He’s a mate of mine from school.” Louis saw Harry nod awkwardly in response. “Harry, these two lovely ladies are Dorothy and Pauline Monroe-Armstrong.”

“Nice to meet you both,” Harry shook both of their hands. “I think I’ve seen you in the bookstore before,” he said directly to Dorothy.

“Probably. I’m there most days,” Dorothy smiled. “It’s nice to meet you as well, although I’m beginning to believe that Louis has something against us Canadians since he only ever introduces us to his British friends.”

Louis chuckled. “Perhaps, Canadians are a little scared of me. I’m not kind enough for them or summat.”  
Dorothy rolled her eyes and placed a palm on Louis’ cheek. “I have it on good record that you’re plenty kind enough.”

“Oh, really?” Harry questioned beside him. “I’d like to see record of that kindness,” he teased.

“Well is buying books to hand out at the children's hospital every December proof enough?” Dorothy replied.

Harry’s smile fell as he looked over to Louis. His face and voice suddenly went soft. “Yeah, I’d say that’s actually pretty good proof.”

Louis looked back to Dorothy and Pauline, both of whom were smirking at him. “I’d love to chat with you both longer, but it’s almost midnight so we should probably get back there while we have time.”

“Honey, take all the time you need. We can wait to shut it down. It’s Christmas Eve after all and if tonight an old man like Santa Claus can get his reindeer to fly and manage to fill the stockings of children around the world then I think we little old ladies can keep a little Christmas magic going too, right?”

Pauline nodded with a smile. “Goodnight boys. Have a lovely evening and Merry Christmas! It was nice to meet you Harry!”

“You too,” Harry replied. “Happy Christmas!”

Louis turned back just in time to catch Dorothy giving him a knowing wink before both ladies continued on to the house. Surely the blush of his cheeks was from the cold, he tried to convince himself as he walked on.

…………………………

At the end of the path the woods suddenly opened up into a large meadow. Harry stopped short and gasped when saw what stood in the middle. It was the largest balsam fir evergreen he had ever seen and it was decorated with large colorful lights and ornaments. On the top was a star, shaped from orange lights. Bing Crosby’s “White Christmas” could be heard, but he wasn’t sure where the music was actually coming from and the lights flashed in tune with the music. To the left of the tree was a little wooden nativity scene and to the right were light-up Santa Claus and Rudolph figurines. Harry smiled at the blinking of Rudolph’s red nose. There was a stone path, that had clearly been shoveled several times, leading up to the beautiful scene, along with two wooden benches where visitors could sit and take it all in.

“What do you think?” Louis asked looking up at him.

“It’s amazing!” he answered, feeling like a little boy on Christmas morning. “How do they do this? I mean that tree is huge!”

“I think the fire department helps out. Dorothy’s brother is a retired fireman.”

“It’s like walking into a Christmas card.”

Louis nodded. “It really is.”

They walked forward and sat down on one of the benches. The music changed to the Trans-Siberian Orchestra’s version of “Carol of the Bells” and the lights on the tree flashed along with the fast beat. It was truly mesmerizing.

“Thanks for bringing me here, Lou,” Harry said as the song wound down and a slower song started playing.

“You’re welcome,” Louis replied. “Thank you for hanging out with me on my birthday. It’s actually been one of the best birthdays I’ve ever had.”

Harry beamed. “I guess I’m more than just a wannabe American frat boy then, yeah?”

“Yeah, about that,” Louis looked down and dug the toe of his shoe into the gravel beneath them. “I shouldn’t have judged you when I didn’t know you. I should’ve known that any mate of Niall and Kat wouldn’t be a gigantic wanker, Packers fan or otherwise.”

“You’re forgiven,” Harry promised. “Lou, can I ask you a question?”

Louis furrowed his brows as if unsure he wanted to know what the question was, and that made Harry a bit nervous to ask. “Um, sure?”

“Zayn has been your best mate since childhood, right?”

“Yeah, he moved to Doncaster when I was twelve and he was eleven. He was the new kid at school and no one really ever said anything to him. Then one day probably a month after he moved in down the street I was ice skating at Donny Dome, our two story skating rink, and I saw the new kid holding on to the walls, until suddenly he got to a place where he couldn’t hold on anymore and he tried to let go and just fell on his arse. He looked so embarrassed so I skated over and helped him get up. I held his hand while we skated until he got the hang of it and that was it. We were inseparable from that day on. Before long we were doing kick flips with our skateboards together at the park most evenings. Not even my offer to play football at a Canadian university could keep Zayn and I apart. I’m glad, because I’ve needed him more than I’d like to admit these last couple years. He’s the brother I’ve never really had and I’m pretty sure he feels the same since he comes from a family full of females too.” Louis paused for a second. “Wait! You’re not attracted to him are you? Like you’re not wanting to steal him from Liam, right?”

“What?” Harry laughed. “Fuck, no, I would never do that. I mean he’s hot, but he clearly loves Liam, and I’m not interested in either of them as anything other than friends.”

“Good to know.”

“Louis, you want to know why I’m a Packers fan?” Harry asked, taking a deep breath.

“Not really,” Louis answered with a laugh, “but I have a feeling you’re going to tell me anyway.”

“I don’t talk about it, to anyone, not even Nick or Ed,” Harry explained. “but I just really feel like I need you to know.”

Louis shifted on the bench, squaring his body to face Harry more. His face grew more serious and Harry knew he was making the right decision to share something so important.

“You know how I told you my mum and stepfather are going to Florida the day after Christmas?” Harry started.

“Yeah,” Louis nodded.

“Well we started going to Florida when my stepdad first came into the picture. I was seven. We would leave the day after Christmas and fly to the Keys where we would stay in a condo right on the beach for ten days. The second year we went, when I was eight and my sister Gemma was eleven, there was an American family staying in the condo next to ours. They were from a small town in Eastern Wisconsin and Gemma immediately befriended their oldest daughter, Rachel, who was a year older than Gemma. Rachel looked like she belonged in our family actually, with her brown hair and green eyes. People would actually ask us if she was our sister.”

Harry stopped for a second to sort his thoughts before continuing, his speech slow as he tried to construct his words carefully. “The third or fourth day there I was building sand castles on the beach when Gemma and Rachel came up to me, dragging along this girl who had bright red hair, freckles, and braids. She looked just like Pippi Longstocking,” he chuckled at the memory. “The little girl’s name was Lily. She was Rachel’s little sister and she was exactly two weeks younger than me.

“Lily became my bff immediately and every year our families would rent the same two condos in the Keys for the same ten days after Christmas and over New Year’s. Our parents became close friends as well and we would all gather around the telly to watch the Packers’ games since the NFL playoffs would fall during our holiday. Lily and I would send each other homemade birthday cards and school pictures and send emails and occasionally exchange phone calls. I even flew out to Wisconsin a couple summers back for two weeks and her family took me to a preseason football game in Green Bay. We text multiple times a day at that point and while Gemma and Rachel remained friends too, and our parents as well, Lily and I were like two peas in a pod.

“Lily was the one I was with when I was ten and cracked my head open trying to do a back somersault into the pool. She was the one I shared my first kiss with when we were twelve, sitting at the end of a long pier, and we both giggled afterward from the awkwardness of it. She was the one, three years later, who held me close on the beach as I cried into her shoulder because I liked boys, when I hadn’t even told my family yet, and one year later I did the same for her when the boy she was dating broke up with her by text message two days after she told him she wasn’t ready for sex yet. She was the one, who last December, ran straight into my arms, on our first day in Florida, waving her acceptance letter to the same university in Ottawa I had already been accepted to, because we both wanted to go to school together at a place that was in-between our homes and was in a cold climate because she wasn’t willing to give up the snow. She was everything to me.”

Harry cleared his throat as the emotions began to build up inside him. He could tell he had Louis’ undivided attention. He sat completely still, eyes focused on Harry’s eyes, mouth set in a straight line.

“When we were leaving to fly home from Florida last year, she hugged me tight and said ‘8 months, Hazza’ and I remember feeling an excitement that I had been holding back for a long time, because I knew it wouldn’t be much longer until we could conquer the world together. And then three weeks later, I walked in the door after working an early morning shift at the bakery and my mum and stepdad were sitting at the kitchen table crying.” Harry’s voice broke and a moment later he felt a hand squeeze his knee and stay there in support. “Lily, Rachel, and their mum, Helen, had been driving home from a shopping trip in Milwaukee and it was snowing pretty hard. A big truck lost control and hit them head on. Lily and Helen died on impact most likely. Rachel survived, but is paralyzed from the waist down. Three days after Lily’s death I received a birthday present in the mail from her. Written on the card under her signed name was '7 more months Hazza' and I knew in that moment that, no matter what, I was going to go to school in Ottawa just like we’d planned, because it’s where she would want me to be, and it’s why I wear so much Green Bay clothing; to remember her.”

“So that’s why you can’t go to Florida,” Louis said, understanding in his voice.

Harry nodded. “I can’t go when they won’t be there. I just can’t do it. It’s been hard enough being here, even though I’ve met so many great people.”

“Harry, I am so sorry.” He could see the emotion behind Louis’ blue eyes and he could feel the light pressure of the other lad’s hand still on his knee. “I can’t even begin to imagine...but I just know how I would feel if it were Zayn. I would be inconsolable.”

He rubbed his face with the back of his gloved hands to remove the tears that were sliding down his cheeks. “I’m sorry. I hope I didn’t ruin your good birthday with my own problems.”

Louis shook his head. “No, of course not. I’m glad you felt you could share your memories of Lily with me. I wish I could have gotten the chance to know her too.”

Harry looked over to the gigantic Christmas tree and smiled. “I just want you to know, Louis, that today has been the best day I’ve had in such a long time. I owe that to you. I try to make the best out of everyday. I’ve learned that lesson because of Lily’s death, but today was a day I won’t forget.”

He watched as Louis looked down, his lips parted slightly, the tip of his tongue briefly sweeping over them. When he looked back up, he leaned in a little closer to Harry. Harry’s heart started to thump hard in his chest. This boy in front of him was so beautiful with snowflakes collecting in his fringe and a tinge of pink to his nose and cheeks from the cold. It almost hurt to stare at him too long.

“Harry, you were right,” Louis’ voice was no more than a whisper.

“Hmm?”

Louis swallowed hard and Harry could sense a nervous energy coming from him. “Last night when we were fighting, you were right.”

“Right about what?” Harry asked, completely confused.

Louis’ body shifted a shred closer and Harry felt like he was about to climb out of his skin. He fought the urge to shift his own body backwards, away from the glorious creature invading his personal space. The slight rasp of Louis’ near whisper didn’t help the situation for Harry at all.

“About Niall being the only lad in the room wanting to be with girls.”

Harry drew in a deep breath and he wondered if Louis could tell how much effect he was having on Harry’s mental state. “Are you saying that you like boys?” he managed to spit out, and yet nearly face palming afterward at the stupidity of the question.

“I’m saying that I like you.” Louis cooed, and Harry’s breath hitched as Louis’ right palm cupped his left cheek. The blue eyes staring back at him were full of something, not exactly lust, but some kind of raw emotion. Harry was sure his eyes appeared the same to the boy only centimeters in front of him. “I’m saying that I want to kiss you right now, but only if that’s okay with you?”

Harry didn’t need to hear another word. He quickly closed the small distance between them and pressed his lips to Louis’ own soft ones. It wasn’t long or sexy; it was soft and smooth and surreal and perfect. Just as their lips pulled apart with a light smacking sound, the bells from a nearby church rang out. 

Christmas had arrived.


	5. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains smut. Rated M.

Chapter 4  
December 25th

The walk back to campus was nearly a mile, and Louis thought he might actually have icicles hanging from his nose and chin, but he didn’t care because inside he was feeling warm and toasty. His left hand was entwined with Harry’s right one as they walked in silence. It was almost as if they didn’t need to speak. The kiss they had shared had said everything that needed to be said for the time being and Louis’ heart was still racing twenty minutes later as building #28 came into view.

They stopped outside Louis’ flat and he fumbled with unlocking the front door while gripping Harry’s hand at the same time. Finally, after Harry started to laugh at the sight of Louis’ frustration, they broke their hand hold, freeing Louis’ left hand, and a moment later the door opened much to his relief.

“It’s like you’ve never unlocked a door before,” Harry teased.

“Fuck you, Curly,” Louis hissed, mostly out of embarrassment, as they stepped just inside the door and he yanked off his gloves, dropping them on a nearby table.

“Hey, you started it,” Harry retorted, “or are you saying that’s what you want to do?”

Louis paused at Harry’s repetition of the words he had spoken during their argument at Niall’s not more than thirty hours prior. It was said as a joke this time, he was pretty sure, but for some reason the words hit him like a bullet to the chest. He turned to face the younger man who was smiling back at him. “What if I said it’s what I want to do?” he teased.

Harry swallowed, obviously caught off guard, and took a step forward, his smile replaced by a more solemn look that was difficult for Louis to read. Their bodies were no more than a hand’s width apart and Louis felt a nervous energy building within his own. “Is it?” Harry’s words were just a whisper but his stare was intense.

Louis’ hand instinctively reached out and gripped Harry’s coat right at chest level. Everything about this situation went against what he ever said he’d do again, but his heart was now overriding his brain and the words he spoke came without any forethought. “Stay? I don’t want to be alone tonight.”

The next breath Harry emitted came out as an audible shudder. He was nervous by the situation too, it was obvious, but something in his green eyes told Louis he wanted this just as much. A slight nod of the head was the only reply Louis received before Harry wrapped his arms around Louis and pulled him closer as their lips found each other a second time. It wasn’t as soft, it wasn’t as smooth, but it was still surreal, and this time it was seductive. It was needy. A shiver flowed down his spine the moment their tongues met in what felt like a well choreographed dance. A moan escaped Harry’s lips and Louis’ response was to reach for the zipper of Harry’s coat, pulling it all the way down. Harry quickly shrugged the coat off and it fell to the floor as Louis did the same with his own coat. Louis needed to touch skin, needed to be closer. He wrapped his arms around Harry and slid his hands up underneath the other boy’s cream colored jumper, the feel of warm smooth skin greeting his cool hands. Harry brought his lips to Louis’ jaw, leaving a trail of kisses that led down one side of his neck and ended with light sucking at the older boy’s collarbone. Louis’ groaned aloud, pushing Harry backward until the other boy’s back was pressed against the front door.

The ability to not grind against Harry’s body was getting more and more difficult. Louis was so hard he felt as if he may explode from any friction. Just leaning into Harry as they kissed desperately, was enough to feel Harry’s hard cock pressing against his own. It was too soon. Too soon. It wasn’t soon enough.

“Lou,” Harry breathed, tugging up on Louis’ jumper and pulling it over his head. The younger boy’s hands running the length of Louis’ torso, and then wrapping around his bare back, landing just above his bum. Louis’ body instinctively thrust forward into Harry’s, moans escaping both of their mouths.

“Louis, please?” Harry pleaded, his hands reaching for the button of Louis’ jeans. “I want you. I need to feel you inside me.”

Louis pulled his lips away from Harry’s neck and rested his forehead against the boy’s shoulder. He wanted it too. He needed it too. Needed more than he could ever admit. Needed to wash away the filth he felt from the last time he had done this and replace it with something more pure. Could he though? He barely knew this boy who was begging him to give him his body, possibly his heart.

“Fuck. Harry,” his voice came out strangled. He forced himself to stop and look the younger boy in the eyes. “Are you sure?”

Harry nodded, never breaking eye contact. “I’ve never wanted anything more.”

That was all the confirmation that Louis needed. He grabbed Harry by the hand and led him quickly down the corridor to his bedroom, kicking the door shut with his foot once they entered. Harry stood facing him in front of the bed, lust blown eyes, swollen lips, and why was he still in his damn Packers beanie? Louis ripped the hat from his head, drawing a laugh from Harry that soon morphed into a moan when Louis’ fingers made their way into Harry’s hair, fingers wrapped in curls, their lips once again reaching for each other in a need they could no longer deny. They kicked off their shoes and socks, and yanked one another’s jeans down without separating. Pulling apart for only a few seconds, Louis pulled Harry’s shirt over his head, revealing a large butterfly tattoo splayed across the boy’s abdomen, and threw it somewhere behind him, not caring where it landed in his messy room.

Slowly he lowered Harry back onto the mattress, crawling over him, their lips still glued together, their tongues still dancing. Their hard lengths rubbing against one another behind their pants, only made them desperate for more. It was misery. It was ecstasy.

“Lou, I can’t—,” Harry stammered. “I’m gonna come soon if we don’t…”

Louis understood. He pulled back and reached into his bedside table for lube and a condom. “You’re still sure?” he asked again.

“Fuck, yes,” Harry panted, his fingers running down Louis’ torso to his hard length, massaging it through the cotton of Louis’ boxers, drawing him within moments of climax. Louis pulled back and stepped off the bed yanking down his pants, his cock springing free with little relief. Then he slid Harry’s boxers down slowly, taking in the other boy’s beautiful bare body for a second. He wanted to run his tongue along the entire length of his lover’s cock, wrap his mouth around it, but he knew Harry couldn’t handle it. He’d come in a few seconds and they both clearly wanted more than that.

Harry laid back with his legs bent but spread open and his arms under his head. Louis couldn’t help but pause for a just a moment to admire just how stunning this boy was, with his wild curls, intense green eyes, swollen pink lips, and perfectly sculpted torso. He had never witnessed anything so beautiful before and the thought that he had ever despised this boy was suddenly ludicrous to him. Licking his lips, he crawled back over the length of the younger lad’s body, leaving a trail of kisses on the way to joining their mouths. Louis’ slick lube covered index finger found Harry’s opening and pushed in slowly, leading to a small gasp from Harry followed by an intense moan. They stayed that way for a few minutes, kissing and gently biting one another’s lips, all while Louis pushed his finger in and out, gradually working up to two fingers. When Harry started sucking on Louis’ collarbone again, he pushed in a third finger, eliciting the most beautiful moan Louis had ever heard from the younger boy’s mouth. Louis’ cock was throbbing, wetness running from the tip and dripping onto the bed between Harry’s legs.

“Ready?” he asked Harry and the other boy nodded. He pulled out his fingers, prepared to tear open the condom packet and put it on.

“Let me,” Harry whispered. Louis handed it to him and Harry opened it quickly before sitting up and slowly rolling it over the length of Louis’ cock. Just the feeling of Harry’s hands grazing him nearly threw Louis over the edge. How would he be able to last more than ten seconds inside of Harry?

A minute later he was hovering, looking down at the boy with the curls, who was staring back at him with eyes full of want, full of need, like they had been long lost lovers separated for months or years and had somehow managed to find each other again. It was overwhelming to Louis because he wasn’t used to having someone look at him with so much emotion and when he slowly started to push inside, the other boy’s eyes suddenly squeezed closed and a long moan of desire left his lips. Louis’ forehead dropped to rest on Harry’s shoulder, unable to take the intensity of green eyes staring seemingly into his soul, as his own sounds of rapture escaped from within. He thrust in and out slowly, his heart beating so hard he thought it might actually burst out of his chest. Harry’s hands lingered over Louis’ back for a moment before settling on the cheeks of his arse.

They moved together, more in tune with one another than Louis had ever experienced during the first time with a new partner, and the tight feeling inside his groin built up slowly more and more. Harry’s mouth found his neck and he could feel teeth breaking his skin and Louis let out a sound of pleasure that he had never heard before as he sped up his thrusts and Harry’s mouth kept working on his neck, his collarbones, his jawline. Finally their lips found each other again, their tongues reaching out for one another as their orgasms grew near. He heard Harry’s breath hitch when Louis grabbed his cock with his right hand and started pumping it. 

“So close,” Harry muttered against Louis’ lips. The younger boy groaned in response to Louis’ tightened grip on his length, pumping faster.

“Lou,” he whispered. “Fuck, Lou…,” Louis felt one hand sweep up his back and the other clutch his now sweat matted brown hair.

Louis pulled his head back so he could look straight into the other boy’s eyes. “Come on, love,” he panted, sweat starting to roll down his back, as his left arm started to ache from holding all his own weight. “Come with me.”

That’s all it took and Harry’s head thrust back into the pillow, his body shuddering, soft grunts escaping from within as stripes of white shot across the younger boy’s torso. Louis’ own ecstasy hit seconds later, as he rested his forehead against Harry’s, his chest rising and falling as he rode the wave of his orgasm.

When it was over, Louis pulled out slowly, removed the condom and tied it off before taking it to the trash in the loo. After getting a cloth to clean them up with he climbed into bed and laid down on his side facing a smiling Harry. 

“So much for being enemies, huh?”

Harry chuckled. “Yeah. I never really liked the enemies thing anyway.”

“I could say the same thing,” Louis answered, “but I’d be lying.” He laughed. “But I liked this more. A lot more.”

“What time does your flight leave?” Harry smiled contentedly.

“Half ten.”

“I can leave if you’d like since you have to get up early,” Harry offered.

Louis reached out, placing his hand on Harry’s hip, squeezing lightly. “Stay. Please?”

“Okay,” Harry whispered before Louis snuggled in closer, wrapping an arm around the younger boy’s back. Their noses were nearly touching, their eyes locked on one another, and Louis felt Harry wrap a leg around his own legs under the covers. He was so sleepy, yet he didn’t want to take his eyes off of the boy in front of him.

Harry seemed to sense his fatigue though. “Go to sleep, Lou. You don’t want to miss your flight because you overslept.”

“Will you still be here when I wake up?” Louis asked a bit sheepishly.

Harry simply nodded before leaning in and giving the older lad a rather chaste kiss on the lips.

“Night.” Louis smiled and shut his eyes. The last thing he remembered was the feeling of a strong arm wrapping around him and a large soft hand rubbing gently up and down his back.

…………………………….

His eyes fluttered open a few hours later with the bed feeling cold. The other side that had been previously occupied was now empty, and Louis thought for a moment that maybe he had dreamed up the events of the night before, but an indent could still be seen in the pillow from the head of a certain curly haired lad. At first he considered that perhaps Harry was in the loo or had went to the kitchen for a middle-of-the-night snack. After about ten minutes he began to worry. He found his pants in a pile of clothes on the floor below the foot of the bed and pulled them on quickly. It was fucking cold, but he didn’t want to waste his time putting all his clothes on. Tiptoeing out of the room he made his way to the loo where the door was open and the room dark. No Harry. He continued to the living room, where again the room was empty. He was just about to call out the other lad’s name when he heard a voice coming from the kitchen. Sneaking up on the door that was cracked open slightly he listened.

Harry was laughing, his back to Louis, but the older boy thought he saw him holding a phone up to his ear. “I know. I know. I can’t wait to see you either,” Harry’s voice was low and quiet and Louis could barely make out all of the words.

Who was he talking to? Why was he being so quiet?

“I wish I could be there today too,” he heard. “I miss you so much. Bloody snowstorm had to get in the way.”

Whomever it was on the other line Louis thought Harry must want it to be private and Louis was beginning to feel guilty, until he heard the next words.

“I love you.” Louis nearly choked on his own saliva. This couldn’t be happening. Not again. Was he being used? Did Harry have a boyfriend elsewhere?

“I’ll see you tomorrow, I promise.”

Louis hurried back down the corridor as quietly as he could before Harry’s call ended. He slipped back into bed and pretended to sleep. A few moments later Harry returned and slid into bed next to him. It didn’t matter to Louis though, because all he could think of was that he had been duped; manipulated by another charming lad. He should’ve trusted his instincts from the beginning. Harry probably had a boyfriend back home who was waiting impatiently for his return, or who knows, maybe it was a girlfriend? Maybe the story he told Louis about Lily was made up. Maybe she was alive and well. Maybe she never existed at all. The thoughts continued to race through his head until his alarm started beeping at half seven.

He didn’t bother to wake Harry after he showered and dressed. Instead, he took a pen and piece of notebook paper and left a note on the nightstand. A few hours later he was on an airplane headed for London. He tried to sleep, but his head, nor his heart, would let him.

_Happy fucking Christmas to me_

Feeling the dryness of his lips from walking in the cold wind the night before, he grabbed his carry on bag and reached into the side pocket for the spearmint flavored lip balm he always kept there. Instead his hand settled on something unexpected and he slowly pulled it out of the pocket. Kat’s gift.

He unwrapped the blue tissue paper to find a clearly homemade woven bracelet. It was blue and purple which Louis knew represented his favorite color and Kat’s favorite color together. He had seen these bracelets before on both her and Niall’s wrists, so he knew she had made it herself. Behind it was piece of plain white paper folded into a square. He opened it to find a handwritten letter:

_Tommo,  
I’m sorry I had to miss your birthday party. Of course, I didn’t even know the boys were throwing you one until a few hours ago (it’s only an hour before I have to leave for the airport). So, I decided now would be the perfect time to give you this bracelet that I made for you last night after your argument with a certain Packers fan that I shall not name. I hope you like it, but if you don’t just don’t tell me and act like you lost it or gave it to one of your sisters as a gift or something._

Louis chuckled as he continued reading.

_I didn’t really make the bracelet for your birthday. I made it to tell you thanks. Niall told me about how you let him cry on your shoulder for a few days when he and I had that big fight a few weeks back. I thought we were over. He thought so too. I mean, I love him, and we were having this stupid fight over nothing important at all, and it sucked Lou. I was miserable, but there was no way in hell that I was giving in and asking for forgiveness. I was prepared to give him up if I had to, but he told me that you kept telling him to fight for me, because I was worth it and because you knew we both loved each other more than anything else in the world. So he did fight for me and we both apologized and we have a new understanding and appreciation for each other and I just need to say thank you. You’re an A++ friend (to both of us)._

_I also want to say that I miss your smile. When we first met last year at that one party Niall threw (the one where he puked all over that asshole who tried to flirt with me) I thought “Wow, there’s a boy with an amazing smile” and I mean that, but I haven’t seen it much lately. You seem sad and I want you to know that you deserve better than that idiot who hurt you last semester (no Liam and Zayn didn’t tell me about it, I just have two good eyes). You deserve true happiness. So for your birthday I’m making a wish that you can find something that makes you absolutely completely happy. Once you find it, don’t lose it, because that kind of happiness is so rare. I almost lost it with Niall, and thanks to you I didn’t. Until then, Louis, slip on the bracelet I made (or don’t) and know that I’m here for you (and Niall is too) if you ever need anything or just need to hang out._

_Love ya and Happy 21st,  
Kat_

………………………………………………...

Harry stretched his arms and let out a long yawn. He slowly opened his eyes and it took him a second to remember where he was sleeping. He rolled over to where Louis’ body had been when he went to sleep hours earlier, but instead he found it empty and cold. Daylight was streaming in through the bedroom window and he glanced at the clock to see what time it was. Fuck! It was nearly noon. Why didn’t Louis wake him? Now he was surely somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean and Harry felt disappointed that he didn’t at least get a goodbye peck on the lips.

As he pulled his legs over the side of the bed he noticed a piece of paper on the nightstand next to him. The note from Louis was brief, but it certainly packed a punch.

_Curly,_  
_Feel free to take a shower if you want. Please lock the front door when you leave.  
Last night was a mistake. I’m sorry but whatever this is between us just won’t work._

_Happy Christmas. I hope whomever you share it with shows you a good time._

_L_

Harry crumpled the paper up in his hand and winged it at the closet door, where it bounced off and landed on the floor at his feet. How could everything have been perfect the night before and gone to shit while Harry was sleeping? He was confused and hurt and angry.

He didn’t bother taking a shower. Instead he put his previous day’s clothes on and left Louis’ flat, making sure to lock the door behind him. He padded up the cold stairs in only his socked feet and to the door of his own flat directly above. As soon as he walked in, he was met with a frantic Nick.

“Where the fuck were you, Harold?” He knew he was in trouble when Nick broke out the nickname he reserved for only when he was being critical of Harry.

“Sorry, I should’ve called,” Harry responded, hoping Nick would ease up on him.

“Ya think? I tried knocking on every door in the building. I called you and every person I thought you knew whose numbers I had. I was considering filing a missing person's report!”

“Sorry,” Harry sat down on the arm of the sofa.

“Where were you?” Nick asked again, this time with a little less urgency.

“I was at Louis’.”

“At Louis’?” Nick asked. “You mean you slept on his sofa like he slept on ours the other night?”

Harry was silent.

“Haz?” Nick questioned but still the younger boy offered no answer.

“Harry, you didn’t sleep with Louis did you?” Nick’s voice carried a mix of emotions. “Did you?”

Harry stood up and made toward his bedroom. “I don’t want to talk about it,” he murmured, slamming the door closed behind him.

He collapsed on his bed. Somewhere outside he could hear carol singers and he prayed they wouldn’t show up at his door. Worst Christmas ever. No family, a friend who thinks he’s lost his mind, and the disappearance of the boy he gave his body up to the night before. He was an idiot. It wasn’t like him to jump in bed with just any guy. He had only went that far with one other lad before, the prior year, and it was only a few times. Hooking up with someone he barely knew wasn’t something he was interested in and he thought that was true for Louis too, yet the bright blue-eyed-perfectly-gorgeous-footie-obsessed boy apparently didn’t think Harry was worth a second time. Fuck, was he that bad in the sack? He pulled a pillow over the top of his head and held it down for a second so he could muffle a scream into it.

He just wanted to talk to Louis and find out what went wrong but he didn’t even have his number. But, he knew someone who did. He grabbed his phone from his pocket and sent a quick text to Niall. A couple hours later he was on his way to the airport, Louis’ number in hand. He decided to try texting first:

**Louis, Niall gave me ur number. Please txt or call me. Curly**

There was no response prior to his flight home. He tried to close his eyes and sleep on the plane, but the old man sitting next to him kept snoring, making it impossible for anyone else nearby to doze off. So he stared out the window at the dark sky and tried to recall the exact taste of Louis’ lips.

At some point over the Atlantic ocean, the calendar ticked another day, and Christmas was officially gone.


	6. Chapter 5

Chapter 5  
December 26th—31st

“Harry!” He was drawn into a tight hug in the entrance way of his mother and stepfather’s home. A hug that involved hard back slaps, typical of men who hadn’t seen one another for awhile.

“Dad,” Harry replied. “It’s great to see you!” He pulled away and ushered his father into the home.

It had been a long day. He arrived back in the UK just in time to see the sunrise. He had spent an hour of time with his mother, stepfather, and sister before they all left for the airport for their respective holidays. It was just enough time for them to open presents. He had received a new watch from his mum and stepdad and a few DVDs from Gemma. Despite the enjoyment of seeing his family he dreaded being left alone to think about the previous day's events. Louis still hadn’t sent a text or called him and he was itching to send another message just in case the older boy hadn’t received the first one. His mind couldn’t stop thinking about the note Louis had left him. It had come across as both bitter and contrite and Harry still couldn’t figure out what had led Louis to suddenly change his mind about them. Thankfully, his father, who had been living and working in Australia for the past two years, had flown home to visit family for a few days. Harry hadn’t seen his father in person for over a year and he was hoping it would lead to a couple days of welcome distraction. He had a great relationship with his dad even though they spoke infrequently so he expected a good time.

The evening was spent eating dinner at a local restaurant and Harry telling his father about school. He told him that he did well in all his classes, that he had settled on a biology major in hopes of getting into med school in a few years, and that he had made a lot of new friends. His father, in turn, told him about how things were going at the marketing firm he had helped start up in Melbourne and about his girlfriend of almost a year that was keeping him from moving back to the UK anytime soon. Harry was glad his dad was happy. He wished he could say the same thing about himself.

Once he was back home, he checked his phone again, but still nothing from Louis. There was a message from Gemma saying that she had arrived safely in France and one from Nick telling him that he was already missing Harry’s cooking which made him roll his eyes and smile for a second, but it wasn’t enough to get him out of the funk he was in. He tried to watch one of the movies that Gemma had gifted him but nothing could get his mind off of one thing. Louis. The name rolled around in his brain over and over. Louis. Louis. Louis.

It was time for reinforcement. He hoped his mum wouldn’t mind. Five minutes later he was splayed across the sofa, bottle of the best Chardonnay he could find in his lap, and Led Zeppelin’s “When the Levee Breaks” blaring from the turntable. Slowly he downed the wine, feeling a buzz throughout his body. The alcohol wasn’t having the desired effect, however, because it wasn’t taking the memories from two nights earlier away. It only served to make them worse. The more alcohol the worse Harry felt. Eventually, the thoughts about Lily and her death and how much Harry missed her resurfaced in his brain and out of desperation he decided to send Louis another text message:

**Lou!!!! Call me!!!!!!! Please??????????????**

It may have been more than a buzz at that point. Yet, still not too drunk to text. Thirty minutes later, a little more drunk, he sent a third text:

**Tommo! Plse call me. Im beging u**

By the time he had finished Led Zeppelin and switched to The Rolling Stones’ “Sticky Fingers” album he was starting to see double, slur his words as he sang along to “I Got the Blues,” and send barely readable messages to the brown haired lad he couldn’t get off his mind:

**Loo loo cll mse u fckr**

**I hat yu!@!!**

**Fkng dockhed**

Just as he was about to send out one more his phone rang.

“Hellllo Nialler!” he slurred. “I looooove you Niall!”

Niall chucked on the other end of the line. “Harry, you are clearly pissed.”  


“You mi’ be right.” He hiccuped before chugging down the last of the wine bottle.

“You know you sent those texts to me, right?” Niall asked.

“Bugger,” Harry replied, dancing unsteadily around the living room to the music.

“Were you trying to send them to Tommo?” Niall asked. “I thought you two kissed and made up.”

Harry let out a barking laugh. “More like kissssed and fucked up.”

“What?” Niall was clearly confused.

“We kissssed and then we fucked and then he lef’ me,” Harry’s voice came out slower than ever.

Niall gasped. “You had sex with Louis?”

“Mmmmhmmm.” Harry paused for a second to grab the arm of the couch and steady his very unstable gait. “It was sooo gooood. Then he left me ‘lone and said it was a mistake. Bloody dickhead!”

“So that’s why you’re drunk? Because of what happened with Louis?”

“Uh-huh,” Harry flopped down onto his belly on the sofa. “But you won’t leaf me Nialler? Cause you looove me?”

“No, Haz,” Niall answered. “I won’t ever leave you. Now go get yourself a glass of water and some aspirin and leave them by your bed and then lay down and get some sleep.”

“But, wha’ ‘bout Lou?”

“I’ll make some calls, okay? You just need to go to bed and sleep.”

“Kay,” Harry replied, his voice a loud whisper. “I loooove you Nialler.”

“I know, I know,” Niall laughed. “I think you’d love anyone right now.”

They exchanged goodbyes and Harry did as Niall told him. When he woke late the next morning, it was with a massive headache and mild queasiness. He was thankful he didn’t even have to get out of bed for water and painkillers though. In fact, it took him more than an hour to drag himself out of bed and into a hot shower.

He was supposed to meet his father in Manchester at one o’clock for lunch, followed by a movie, so the quicker he could make himself presentable the better. After his shower, he made a small pot of coffee, which helped immediately to lessen the headache. When he looked in the mirror, however, he knew there was nothing he could do to get rid of the dark circles under his eyes. Oh well. Maybe he could tell his dad that he wasn’t feeling well and leave it at that.

Wrong. Two hours later they were in the middle of their dinner at a nice Italian restaurant when his father finally asked him the dreaded question.

“Harry, do you have a hangover?”

Harry had been caught off guard completely and he knew it showed on his face. “What?”

“You look like hell, but you haven’t given any indication that you’re ill,” his father responded. “Were you drinking last night?”

Harry sighed. He couldn’t lie to his own dad. He never could lie to his parents. “Yeah.”

“Did you go to a party after I left or were you drinking alone?”

“Alone,” Harry answered, suddenly ashamed. “I stole a bottle of wine from mum’s wine cellar.

“Harry, do I need to give you a lecture about this, because usually you’re not the child I have to worry about doing something irresponsible?”

“No, Dad.” Now he felt even worse, because his dad was right. He was a mostly responsible person. Even at the worst of times, yet this time he felt like he had lost all of his senses.

“Are you having a hard time with being away from home, because you could transfer to school here?”

Harry shook his head.

“Do you miss Lily? Is that what this is about?”

“Yes, I miss her everyday, but no, that’s not what it’s about.”

His dad gave him a gentle smile. “Is this about a boy at school?”

Harry dropped his head out of embarrassment. He wasn’t used to talking about his love life, or lack thereof, to his parents, especially his father.

“What’s this boy’s name? Is he Canadian? Is he cute?”

“Dad!” Harry exclaimed. “Since when do you care about the boys I fancy?”

His dad reached across the table and squeezed his arm. “I’ve always cared. You’ve just never cared to tell me the details.”

Harry took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “His name is Louis. He’s not from Canada; he’s from Yorkshire. He’s on the footie team and he’s the most beautiful boy I’ve ever known.”

“Sounds perfect, so what’s the problem?”

“I thought he liked me too, and then he just said we were a mistake,” Harry answered, “and he just left and he won’t answer my texts. I don’t know what to do.”

“It sounds like he’s confused.”

Harry nodded. “Maybe.”

“I think you should just give him some time to figure things out over your break. Maybe he’ll come around when schools starts again. He would be crazy not to fall in love with you.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Yeah, because you’re not biased at all?”

His dad laughed. “Maybe a little.”

………………………………………….

Louis heard the buzz of his phone for what felt like the millionth time. It was New Year’s Eve afternoon and his family’s home was bustling in preparation for the annual New Year’s Eve bash that would take place there that evening. His mum was busy baking, his four little sisters were in charge of cleaning up the living room, and Louis had been given bathroom duty. In other words, he was scrubbing the toilet and wiping down the sink and shower. He stopped for a moment and pulled off the latex glove covering one of his hands so he could look at his phone.

It was Niall. Again. For four days now Louis had been inundated by calls and texts from Niall, from Kat, and today it seemed like Zayn had joined in too. It was obvious that Harry had told them what happened between them. He didn’t know why Harry even bothered to talk about it to their mates. He was the one who was using Louis. Maybe he told them that Louis had used him to gain their sympathy. Oddly enough he had received only one message from Harry himself.

He was glad, because he was sure he would lose his cool if he actually had to read message after message, or hear multiple voicemails, from Harry. He just wanted to put what happened between them behind him and move on, yet for some reason all he could think about was their night together; about the cafe, the cinema, the Thai restaurant, the Christmas lights, and what happened once they had went back to Louis’ flat. It was just one night, so it shouldn’t be that difficult to get over. He looked down at the jacket he was wearing; the one that Harry had given him. He ran his fingers along the zipper as he sat down on the bathroom floor, his back against the wall, his legs extended in front of him.

Something felt wrong. Deep down in his bones he could feel it. Why would Niall and Kat be so persistent on getting hold of Louis while they were on winter break? Why not just wait until school starts again in a week and a half? Fuck, what if something was seriously wrong? He looked at his phone and came seriously close to calling Niall back for once, but then a second later his nerve was gone.

Instead, he decided to check Niall’s Facebook page to see if there was anything alarming posted. There was nothing new except for a picture of him and his brother on Christmas and then one of Niall and a few friends at a pub. Louis decided to have a look at Zayn’s page next. He smiled when he saw a picture of Zayn and Liam with Liam’s family. Things must’ve went over well in Wolverhampton and Louis was thrilled for his best friends. Scrolling down it was all posts Louis had seen before. Yet he noticed when he glanced at Zayn’s Facebook friends, that Harry was listed. He clicked on the icon of Harry giving a peace sign while wearing a snapback backwards. Nothing showed up on the page because they weren’t “friends” on the social media site. He knew it wasn’t the time to send a friend request (he wasn’t sure he’d want to anyway), but there was something he could do.

“Zayn, please forgive me,” he whispered to himself before he logged out of his own account and then typed zmalik112@mymail.com into the blank for username, followed by liammylove93 in the password blank. Zayn’s Facebook page came to life on Louis’ screen and he once again clicked on Harry’s icon to access the curly lad’s page.

The first thing he saw was a picture of Harry and an older gentleman at what looked to be a restaurant that was dated the day after Christmas. When he clicked on the picture he saw that Harry had captioned it as “Dinner with dad for the first time in a long time.” Okay, so not what Louis had expected to find on Harry’s Facebook. Harry hadn’t even mentioned his biological father to Louis before, so he had assumed the man must not be present in the younger boy’s life. Clearly, he had been wrong.

Continuing to scroll down, Louis saw nothing suspicious. There were memes that Harry had shared (clearly the lad was fond of puns), posts about the Packers unsurprisingly, and some pictures of Harry with various mates from uni. There was a post from the London airport on the day that he left for school in August. Louis only paused when he got to a picture that was posted on the first of February. It was a picture of Harry holding up the very Nike jacket that Louis was wearing with a gift box and torn up wrapping paper lying in his lap. In the caption there was a quote: “I took a day to search for God, and found Him not; but as I trod, by rocky ledge, through woods untamed, just where one scarlet Lily flamed, I saw His footprints in the sod.” This was followed by a few simple words that Harry had written below. “Death can never separate us.” Below the picture there were numerous comments wishing Harry a happy eighteenth birthday. Several also sent their condolences to him in regard to Lily’s passing.

Louis’ felt his breath hitch as he inhaled slowly. Was it really possible that Harry had given him the very jacket that Lily had sent Harry for his birthday; a gift that had arrived days after her death? They weren’t even friends yet when Harry gave it to him and said that Louis was the “owner the jacket deserved.” Still, Harry had implied that he had been re-gifting it to him.

Suddenly, Louis felt like a fool. He scrolled down further until he came to a photo taken on what appeared to be a dock the previous December. It was Harry, dressed in only yellow swim trunks, his hair a little shorter and curlier. He was sitting with his legs hanging over the dock and a pretty red-headed girl, dressed in a green and white striped bikini, was sitting next to him with her head on his shoulder. They’re both wearing toothy grins and Louis thought they quite frankly looked adorable. He noticed that Harry and “Lily Grey” had been tagged by Harry’s sister, Gemma, who must have taken the pic from inside a boat or on a jet ski. She captioned it “BFFs” with a smiley emoji.

He kept scrolling down until he came to the day that Harry had joined Facebook almost three years earlier. Many of the pictures he posted were from his trips to Florida, and Lily always liked them. They left messages for each other constantly. Louis, for the first time, felt the pain of Harry’s loss. It must’ve been excruciating for him to have lost his best friend. They had been as close as, if not closer than, Louis and Zayn had been growing up. And to think that Harry had given away the last gift that Lily had given him to Louis, simply because Louis was a football player and fanatic, was overwhelming.

His phone sat on his lap, and he stared at it for a long time, unsure of what to do. He wasn’t ready to face Harry just yet. Perhaps, he should call Zayn back? Then he noticed the purple and blue bracelet wrapped around his wrist. That was it. He pulled up his contacts and hit the call button. He could hear three rings on the other end before the female voice picked up.

“Hello?”

He swallowed slowly, afraid he wouldn’t be able to find his voice at first, before finally finding the nerve to answer. “Kat?”

“Louis?” She sounded surprised. “Niall’s been trying to get hold of you all week! He even had me call you a few times.”

“I know,” Louis answered. “Are you free to chat for a few?”

“Yeah,” she replied. “What’s up?”

“You don’t know?” Louis asked.

“I know that Niall wanted to talk to you and it has something to do with Harry. He didn’t tell me anything else.”

“Kat, I think I fucked up.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” she joked, a slightly maniacal giggle leaving her mouth.

“Ha ha,” Louis responded, not offended by her humor. “Just remember you and I are a lot alike, Kathleen.”

“Okay, Lewis.” She sarcastically replied. "Seriously though, tell me what’s wrong?”

He explained the situation to her without getting into too many private details, especially regarding any of Harry’s secrets.

“Lou, Harry’s not seeing anyone else. I promise you that,” Kat answered afterward. “He’s had a thing for you since probably two weeks into the semester. He’s never talked about anyone else back home or anything either.”

“What?” No way. There was no possible way that was true was it?

“Yeah, you didn’t ever realize that he was all googly eyed over you all semester? All of his mates could see it. We just never brought it up, because we didn’t want to embarrass him or you. Plus, you barely acknowledged his existence.”

“Wow,” Louis breathed. “Well, I’m acknowledging it now.”

“Lou, just call him.” Kat responded. “Obviously, you feel something for him now and I don’t think he’s the kind of guy who’s going to intentionally hurt you.”

He sighed. “Okay, maybe I will.”

“Good,” Kat replied, “because I actually think you two could make a really cute couple.”

Louis smiled. “Thanks. Also, thank you for the birthday gift. I love it and I’m glad I have you as a friend. Just don’t ever hurt Nialler, because I don’t want to have to take sides.”

“Me too and I won’t,” Kat earnestly replied. “I’ll talk to ya soon, Tommo. Now go get your boy!”

They said goodbye and Louis hung up. His hands were a bit shaky from nerves, but he managed to finish cleaning the loo before his mum threw a fit at the tortoise pace he set while doing it. Afterward, he had only two hours before the party would begin at six. So he locked himself in his room, sat down on his bed, and took several minutes to find the nerve to dial the number. Once he did the phone rang several times and then went to voicemail. He left a quick message:

"Curly, it’s Louis. Call me back, yeah? I know it’s New Year’s Eve and you’re probably busy, but I’d really like to have a chat. Thanks.”

Three and half hours later the party was in full swing, but there was no call or text from Harry. Most of the neighborhood had gathered at Louis’ home, including Zayn’s parents and sisters, yet Louis wasn’t feeling in the party mood. He tried to chat with some of his mates who were also home from university for the holidays, but he found his mind drifting to a different place during every conversation. Eventually, he stepped outside onto the front porch for a smoke.

He had a feeling, as he took a drag, that Harry was angry with him and he knew he probably deserved it. Louis had ignored him and all of their mates all week, had left Harry with nothing but a bitter note, and in his own mind had convinced himself he was being used by the lad. He still wasn’t sure who Harry had been speaking to on the phone in his flat early Christmas morning, but it had been wrong of him to assume it was a secret lover. What could he do now, other than wait until they returned to school, several days ahead, to confront the curly haired boy?

Dropping the last of the cigarette on the pavement below him and stepping on it with his shoe, he was just about to go back inside when he heard a familiar voice call his name.

“Louis!” The voice echoed in the chilly night air.

He turned toward the street and his face morphed into a large smile. “Zayn! I thought you were still in Wolverhampton!”

Zayn finally reached him and they shared a quick hug. “No, I couldn’t miss the Tommo’s New Year’s Eve bash! Besides, I haven’t seen my family in ages.”

“Did Liam come with you?”

“No, he stayed with his family. I’m still not sure how my parents would react if I brought him home with me.”

Louis understood. Zayn’s parents knew he was bisexual and knew about Liam, but seemed to shrug it off with the belief that it was simply a phase that he would outgrow. Louis figured they had a harsh reality to face sometime soon if they believed Zayn was going to dump Liam for a girl, or anyone for that matter. Louis gave his best mate a knowing smile.

“How did everything go with Li’s family?”

“Great!” Zayn answered. “They accepted me right away. I really like them!”

“That’s fantastic!” Louis exclaimed.

“Yeah.” Zayn gave a brief smile before his face turned more serious. “Lou, I’ve been trying to reach you for the last two days and I know Niall has been too. I need to tell you something that Niall told me.”

Louis shifted uncomfortably. Surely Niall had spilled the beans about him and Harry to Zayn.

“Niall has been talking to Harry and I guess Harry’s thinking about quitting school and transferring to a British university next fall. He’s not sure he’s going to return to Canada. Anyway, Niall said that I should tell you right away and that you weren’t picking up any of his calls. I’m not sure why he wants you to know so bad.”

Louis could feel all of the color drain from his face and Zayn apparently could see it too, as he reached out to grab Louis’ forearm as if to hold him steady.

“Fuck, Z, I—.” He was at a loss for words. Did he really hurt Harry that much that he would leave school just so he wouldn’t have to see Louis again? This was not okay. He had to do something right away.

“Lou, what’s going on?” Zayn’s face was full of concern and for a split second Louis just wanted to hug him because he was so thankful to have his best mate, but he had a more pressing matter to attend to.

“Zayn, I’ve got to go.” He turned and started to make his way back into the house to get his car keys.

“Go where? Now?” Zayn asked.

“Holmes Chapel. And yes now,” Louis responded.

“Wait, isn’t that where Harry lives?”

“Yes,” Louis nodded. “Do me a favor and call Ed. I know he knew Harry through some mutual mates growing up. See if he can get me his street number?”

“Louis, why is it so important you see Harry tonight? Can’t this wait a day or two?”

“Zayn, I promise you I’ll tell you later, but can you please just help me out right now?”

Zayn let out a resigned sigh. “Sure. I’ll call Ed.”

Louis mouthed a thank you to his best mate and made his way through the crowd to his bedroom. He grabbed his car keys and turned to leave until he saw his DVD collection. He scanned the movies for just a moment before grabbing a specific one, and making his way back out to find Zayn again.

“He didn’t know the address number, but he told me the street name and described the house to me. I hope that helps,” Zayn said as he handed Louis a piece of paper with the information on it. He was still clearly confused as to what was going on.

“Thanks, mate,” Louis gave Zayn a light smack on the back. “If me mum asks, just tell her I had a non-emergency emergency and will call if I won’t be back before morning.”

Zayn nodded. “Good luck, mate. I hope he’s home.”

“Thanks. I’m depending on it.”

Louis made his way to his car that was parked along the street just as a chilly rain started to fall.

……………………………………...

The steady rain coming down outside the windows for the past few hours seemed to match the mood Harry found himself in. He sat on the sofa in front of the telly watching New Year’s Eve coverage from London. It was less than thirty minutes to midnight and soon this godforsaken year would be a thing of the past. Harry felt like moving on was the only answer and he was determined to do so starting January 1st.

The past several days had been awful. While Harry did enjoy spending a couple days with his father, the past few had been spent alone with his thoughts and some alcohol. He had turned down a trip to London with some old mates, which may have been a mistake because no amount of liquor at home could make him forget Louis and the situation that awaited him once he would return to school for the spring semester. Niall had tried all week to reach Louis, but the arse hadn’t returned even one call or text. What kind of mate was that? If he wouldn’t return a call from his close friend, why would Harry think Louis would be the type of lad he’d want to have a romantic relationship with? So by this morning Harry had made the decision to give up on reaching Louis (throwing his phone in a drawer and ignoring it) and made the decision that he wouldn’t return to uni in Ottawa. It was a clean break from Louis and it would stop reminding him of the times he would never have with Lily there. He would miss Nick, Ed, and his other mates, but right now all he wanted was some emotional security and he didn’t think he could find any in Ottawa after having his heart broken twice. Just coming to terms with the fact that he was indeed heartbroken after his one night stand with Louis was an achievement and a rude awakening in itself.

He startled at the sound of the doorbell. Who the fuck was ringing his bell at half eleven? He was lying around in only his boxers, so he hurried to pull on some flannel pajama pants and a plain white v-neck t-shirt. The bell rang a second time as he made his way to the front door. He pulled it open without checking the peephole first to see who it was.

To say he was taken aback by the figure standing on the pavement at the bottom of the steps, would be the understatement of the entire year. There he was, in all his soaking wet glory; the boy Harry couldn’t get out of his head. He was dressed in the national team jacket that Harry had given him as a gift, black joggers, and red Adidas trainers. Harry remained in the doorway, unwilling to step outside in the rain or to let Louis come inside.

“What are you doing here?” Harry asked, making sure there was enough bite in his voice to intimidate the older boy.

“Harry, I know you’re angry with me,” Louis started, his voice sounded nervous, and Harry could tell he was trying not to show how much the cold rain beating against his skin was affecting him. “But I need to say something so could you please just hear me out?”  


“Why should I give you even one second, Louis? After you used me for sex, left me without so much as a goodbye, and ignored every phone call that I, and our mates, made to you all week, why should I waste my breath on you?”

“I know—fuck—Harry I know I made a mistake now,” Louis argued. “Can you answer one question?”

“What?” Harry’s tone was still stern.

“Who were you talking on the phone with in me kitchen early Christmas morning?”

The question threw Harry for a loop. How did Louis know he had made a phone call? He was sure he had kept quiet enough not to wake him. “How did you know I was on the phone that morning?”

“I woke up and you weren’t there so I went to look for you,” Louis responded. “Eventually I heard you in the kitchen and I sort of eavesdropped for a moment.” The older boy hung his head in obvious shame. “I swear it was just for a minute, but I overheard you say some things and I think I misinterpreted them. I hope.”

“I was speaking to my sister, Gemma,” Harry answered honestly. “She told me our dad was coming home from Australia for a few days and that she was going to have dinner with him Christmas evening since she was leaving for France the next morning.”

Louis squeezed his eyes closed as if he were embarrassed to even look up at Harry. “I thought you were talking to your boyfriend, or maybe girlfriend, here in the UK. I thought you used me for sex while you were already seeing someone else. So, that’s why I left so abruptly and haven’t answered any calls.”

Harry laughed. It wasn’t a happy or relieved laugh, but a laugh made of ridicule. “So, that’s what you think of me? You still think I’m a frat boy wannabe. You probably think I’m fucking half the school.”

“No, Curly…,” Louis started.

“Don’t call me Curly,” Harry seethed.

“Okay, I’m sorry,” Louis voice dripped with desperation. “Harry, can I show you something before I go?”

Harry rolled his eyes, before making the decision to allow the older lad’s last request from him. “Fine.”

He watched as Louis removed something that had been stuffed into the back of his jeans, under the jacket. A DVD.

“You know how your favorite Christmas movie is _Love Actually_?” Harry nodded. “Well, this is mine.” Louis handed the movie to him.

Harry read the title on the cover and raised his eyebrows in disbelief. “ _The Holiday_?” he asked. “Bloody _The Holiday_ is your favorite Christmas film?”  


“Yes. It’s my absolute favorite,” Louis reassured.

“You make fun of me for _Love Actually_ , which has an amazing fucking cast, and is witty and romantic and emotional when you’re in love with a movie that stars Cameron Diaz?”

“Hey, she’s not the only one in it!” Louis argued. “Kate Winslet is a bloody national treasure and Jude Law! He’s the only man in England who has cheekbones that can compete with me own, and my god the way he looks wearing glasses is almost sinful!”

Harry had to keep himself from snorting. The blue-eyed lad did have a point.

“Well, I suppose Jack Black is always worth a laugh or two.”

“Definitely,” Louis responded, a smile finally breaking onto his face, despite the fact he was starting to shiver as well as resemble a drowned rat, albeit a beautiful drowned rat.

Harry wasn’t quite ready to make nice, but he also didn’t want to watch the other boy catch pneumonia. “Come inside. You’re going to be sick if you don’t get out of the rain.”

Louis shook his head. “Harry, I couldn’t figure out for weeks why I had no desire to watch me favorite holiday movie this year. Then it occurred to me earlier today that I’m Kate Winslet.”

“Come again?” Harry asked, confusion written on his face.

“I’m Kate Winslet in the movie,” Louis explained, pushing his wet hair out of his face. “She spends all this time being in love with someone who ends up using her while he gets engaged to someone else.”

“What does that have to do with you?”

“A year ago, I met this boy, Chase, at a party on campus. He was fit, sort of like a Paul Walker type, and he was a fourth year tight end on the Canadian football team. He was American though; from Oklahoma, and he dressed a lot like you except for he was a Dallas Cowboys fan instead of Green Bay. Anyway, we met at a party and we both had a little too much to drink. We ended up going back to his off campus flat and we shagged.” Louis paused for a moment, as if lost in a memory, before continuing. “It became a ritual two or three nights per week. We would sneak off late at night to one of our flats. Sometimes we would just hang out and watch telly, or play Xbox, but most of the time it ended with sex. We never stayed the night either, because being a gay athlete is a risk, so it was always sex and see ya later because we couldn’t risk getting caught. The only people who knew about us were Zayn, Javier, and Sarah. Sarah was Chase’s roommate who had graduated the year before and worked evenings as a nurse. I only met her once and Chase had introduced me to her as his friend, but I was sure that he had at least told her about us because they seemed close.

“I thought I was in love with him by the end of the winter. Zayn and Liam had come out in February and the footie team and coaches were all really supportive, so I suggested to Chase that he and I go public with our relationship too. He kept putting it off, asking me to give him some more time; time to come out to his parents who were homophobic Evangelicals and to his best mates on the team first. I felt bad, because I had been out to me own family since I was sixteen and they had never been anything but supportive, so I agreed to wait.

“Well, during the last week of the semester, I had one last term paper to finish on a Thursday night. I told everyone that I would be spending the entire night working in the library. Chase, Zayn, and Liam were all finished with finals and planned on going to a huge party that night; one hosted by several of Chase’s teammates. I ended up finishing my paper earlier than expected. I ran into Ed on my way back to my flat and he convinced me to go to the party too. I knew I couldn’t act like anything other than an acquaintance with Chase, which was so hard because I loved him, but I knew I’d have fun with me mates.

“I was at the party maybe forty-five minutes when I saw Sarah walk in. All of the girls at the party were hovered around her, excited about something. Zayn, Liam, and I were standing around in a corner, sipping our beers, watching all the fuss around her from a distance, when suddenly I saw Chase walk in from another room and kiss her straight on the lips. And then, I saw what all the fuss was about. On her hand was a small diamond engagement ring. Everyone was congratulating them and asking them if they had set a date. One lad yelled “about damn time” and I thought I was going to be sick right then and there. All I remember is Zayn grabbing me arm and leading me out the door before I could get to Chase and punch him in the face. I sent him a scathing text message the next morning. He tried to apologize and told me things were complicated but that he still wanted to be with me. I wanted to give in so much, nearly did in fact, but in the end I knew I had been used. I had been the affair. Used by a closeted man, who was so afraid of his own sexuality that he refused to even fully acknowledge it. I felt so dirty inside.”

Harry, who had remained silent the entire time, cleared his throat. “Lou, I’m so sorry that happened to you. You deserved better than that.”

“You’re right and I finally realized that after a couple months. In July I sent an anonymous letter to Sarah, telling her about the affair I had with her fiance. I guess they broke off the engagement shortly after and Chase moved back to the States.” Louis looked Harry straight in the eyes for the first time. “After that I became super protective of my own heart. It’s why I was a dickhead to you when I didn’t even know you. It’s why I jumped to conclusions and thought you were using me when I heard you tell your sister ‘I love you’ on the phone. I’m sorry, Harry. You deserve better than that. Better than me.”

“That’s not true,” Harry shook his head.

“Harry, there’s something else I need to tell you,” Louis blurted out.

“What?” What more could the older lad possibly say?

“I hacked Zayn’s Facebook account and scrolled through yours. I was looking for proof that you had been using me, but instead I found out just how honest you are and how deep you love.”

Harry swallowed. He hadn’t expected to feel the lump rising in his throat and butterflies fluttering in his stomach.

“This jacket,” Louis pulled on the fabric above his heart, “it was from Lily wasn’t it? Your last gift from her?”

Tears started to pool in the back of Harry’s eyes. He remembered the moment he unwrapped it on his bedroom floor, so soon after he lost her. “Yes,” was all he could murmur.

“Why did you decide to give it to me?” Louis asked.

Harry shook his head. “I don’t really know. I just felt like you were supposed to have it. Like Lily was telling me from the great beyond that you were the person she actually bought it for.” A tear threatened to slip from his right eye and Harry brushed it away quickly.

“But I don’t deserve it. You should really have it back. It means too much to you.” Louis’ fingers started to pull down on the zipper. His entire body was completely soaked from head-to-toe and Harry could tell the rain had started to turn more icy in texture with the falling temperatures.

He shook his head no, indicating that he wouldn’t take the jacket back and he gestured toward the door. “Come inside. I’ll make you tea and get you some dry clothes.”

“I can’t. Harry, I just want to say that I’m sorry and that I hope you don’t decide to leave school. Everyone would miss you.”

“Would _you_ miss me?” Harry asked quietly.

Louis nodded. “More than you could ever know.”

“Louis, did you drive all the way here tonight just with the hope that you could apologize and convince me to go back to uni, or was there something else you were wanting to say?”

Louis’ face was full of emotion. Harry saw doubt, fear, shame, but also kindness, and love. “Harry,” Louis started but then stopped. He chuckled, much to Harry’s surprise. “I kind of feel like I should have big cue cards for you to read like that guy in _Love Actually_ , but they would’ve been rubbish with the rain I suppose.”

Harry laughed at that visual in his mind.

“Harry, I’m sorry for what happened, for how I treated you when we first met, and for the mistakes I’ve made, but I’m not sorry for the time we spent together on me birthday, or for the way we made love that night. I’m not sure my heart’s quite ready to jump into things so fast, but if you’d have me I’d like to try taking things slow? I don’t blame you if you say no though. I don’t deserve a second chance.”

Harry took a step onto the porch, feeling the icy rain hit his skin for the first time. “You do know, Louis, that Kate Winslet, despite her mistakes, gets the happy ending she deserves in _The Holiday_ , right?”

Louis nodded.

“Well if you’re Kate Winslet, then don’t you think you deserve to get a happy ending too?” Harry took one step down the porch stairs, one movement closer to the boy standing drenched in front of him. His bare feet were stinging from the cold pavement below them, but he didn’t care.

“Harry, are you saying you want to give me a happy ending?”

Harry stepped down the final two steps, his heart pounding in his chest, until he was standing mere inches away from Louis. “I’m saying I want to kiss you right now, but only if that’s okay with you?”  


Louis’ lips turned up slightly as he gave the slightest nod. Then before Harry could even move he felt two arms wrapping around his neck and the press of cold wet lips against his own. They stood there locked together in a tight embrace, in the cold wet night, kissing as if their lives depended on it to survive. It was like a scene out of a romantic movie Harry had seen a dozen times before. A few moments later bells rang out at a nearby church and they separated to listen to the beautiful sound filling the air.

“Let’s go in before we both get pneumonia,” Harry grabbed Louis’ hand and pulled him toward the door, the older boy falling easily into step beside him. “We can watch your favorite Christmas movie.”

A new year had arrived.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Harry quotes William Bliss Carman (Canadian poet) on his Facebook page in this chapter: "I took a day to search for God...."


	7. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: mentions of minor character having depression and suicidal thoughts

December 24th

14 years later…

 

“It’s a gorgeous house, love,” Anne, his mother-in-law, stated before giving Louis a hug in his new kitchen where everyone was congregating for an early evening celebration. “Perfect for raising the kids.”

“Yeah, it is,” he agreed. “Gus already loves his big bedroom and he’s already begging us to adopt another baby since we have so much room now. He’s desperate for a li’l brother.”

Anne laughed. “Probably sick of his little sister.”

The doorbell rang and a little girl with long wavy brown hair ran toward the living room to answer it. Louis started to follow but Zayn waved him off. “I’ve got it.”

Even though they were in a different room, Louis could hear the exchange at the door.

“Hi,” the little girl said. Louis smiled, because their daughter always had a friendly demeanor and a gigantic smile.

“Hello there,” a woman’s voice answered. The voice sounded familiar. “I know it’s Christmas Eve but I have an emergency at my house two doors down. I desperately need to speak to Dr. Tomlinson.”

“Which one?” Zayn asked. “There’s two Dr. Tomlinson’s in this house.”

“Oh, of course,” the woman answered with a laugh that came out slightly strangled. “Dr. Louis.”

“Lilia, go get your Papa,” Zayn directed.

A moment later the little girl was flying through the kitchen door. “Papa! Papa! A lady’s at our door. She wants to talk to you. She said it’s a ‘mergency.”

Louis excused himself from the kitchen. He saw concern on Harry’s face and wasn’t surprised when his husband followed.

He immediately recognized the woman standing just inside the door. “Mrs. Roberts! How can I help you? Is something going on with Claire?”

“Oh, Louis!” The woman cried. “Claire stopped taking her meds! She’s been hiding them and now she’s locked herself in the bathroom with a razor. She’s talking about cutting herself and wanting to die. The whole family has tried to encourage her to open the door and let someone in to help her, but she won’t answer. I’m so afraid she’s going to hurt herself.”

“When you say she stopped taking her medication does that include all of her meds or just her anti-depressants?” Harry asked.

Claire Roberts, was the only child of Norah and Sam Roberts, both well known attorneys in the city and was now also a neighbor of the Tomlinson’s. Claire, who was sixteen, had suffered minor, yet significant, head injuries in a car accident over a year earlier. As a result, she suffered from periodic seizures and battled severe depression. Harry was the pediatrician who helped, along with a neurologist, to treat her seizures, while Louis was the clinical psychologist who was helping her through the depression.

“Just her anti-depressants we think. She hasn’t had any seizures in a few months,” Norah answered.

“How many doses do you estimate she’s missed?” Louis asked.

“At least ten.”

Louis walked over to a small closet and grabbed his parka. “Okay, I’ll go over and see what I can do, but she may need to go to the hospital for further evaluation.”

Harry pulled Louis aside for a moment. “Do you want me to come with you?”

“No,” Louis shook his head. “I’ve got it. I hope.”

“But you’re leaving your own birthday party,” Harry whispered.

“I know, but we’re doctors, remember? We took an oath to help others. Celebrate without me. It’ll be fine. You better save me a piece of cake though.”

Harry nodded with a smile. “Okay. Go help Claire and then come back to me and our family.”

They shared a quick peck on the lips and Louis apologized to everyone for having to leave. He stepped out into the bitter cold, following closely behind Norah, large snowflakes beginning to fall steadily from the sky.

………………………………………..

It was after two in the morning when Louis finally stepped back through the door of his house and into the living room. He had been able to talk Claire into coming out of the bathroom and checking into the hospital for observation. He promised her he would stop by and visit her the next evening. The house was dark, except for the lights on the Christmas tree. He wandered into the kitchen, hoping there would still be some birthday cake left, when he saw a shadow sitting on a stool at the large island. A candle burned in the center of a solemn cupcake.

Louis smiled. “You waited up for me?”

“Of course, love,” his husband of nearly ten years answered. “I never even got the chance to show you I made three dozen chocolate cupcakes for your birthday instead of one large cake.”

“Aww, you are the best. What did I ever do to deserve you?” Louis leaned in and gave Harry a kiss on the forehead.

Harry smiled and started to softly sing “Happy Birthday” to Louis.

“Can we just skip the singing?” He asked. “I’m starving. My tummy needs that cupcake.”

“Fine,” Harry relented. “Make a wish.”

Louis made a silent wish that their family would have a lifetime of health and happiness and then he blew out the lone candle. After he ate the cupcake Harry put on his own coat, and grabbed Louis' hand, pulling him toward the back door. They stepped outside and the garden looked like a winter wonderland. Freshly fallen snow was covering the porch, the grass, the bushes. They held hands as they walked across it and to the lighted path through the woods. When they finally got to the clearing they paused and watched the lights on the huge balsam fir tree flash in tune to the sound of Bing Crosby as they had seen so many times before. Yet, it never got old. They made their way to the same bench that they always chose, and Harry wiped the snow off of it with his coat sleeve before they sat down and admired the view. Dorothy had passed six months earlier, two years after Pauline, and in her will she had left the house and property to Louis and Harry. They had been living in Toronto, near Niall and Kat and their four children, but when they stepped foot in the old Monroe house, they knew they were truly home and their seven year old son and four year old daughter immediately agreed.

“It’s hard to believe it’s been fourteen years,” Harry reminisced. “You were twenty-one then and now you’re thirty-five, but it still seems like it was just yesterday.”

“It really does,” Louis agreed. “I can’t believe it’s been exactly fourteen years ago that I sat on this very bench and realized I was falling in love with you.”

“You already knew you were falling in love with me that night?” Harry asked, clearly surprised.

“Yeah,” Louis answered. “One kiss and I knew deep down you were the one, even though we had some bumps along the way.”

“Me too, Lou,” Harry replied, his voice quiet and reflective. “You’re my forever and it all started here.”

“It did,” Louis whispered. They sat for a few minutes more before they made their way hand-in-hand back to the house. Once inside, Harry handed a package to Louis.

“A present for me?” Louis’ eyes lit up.

“Open it,” Harry prompted.

Louis quickly ripped the metallic silver paper off of the package and found a plain white box underneath. He pulled the lid off of the box and then the tissue paper underneath away to reveal what was inside. One look and he laughed. He pulled out a green and yellow Packers beanie and held it out in front of himself to admire.

“I found it stashed away at our old house before the move. It’s the one I used to wear back when we met at uni. You hated it with a passion,” Harry explained.

“I did,” Louis agreed. “I really did. But now, I think I kind of like it. He placed the beanie on his own head, tugging down on it until it covered his ears.”

“I like it on you,” Harry admitted, his dimple showing with his smile.

“I bet you do,” Louis winked before wrapping his arms around his husband. “I love you.”

“I love _you_.”

Their lips met in a deep and meaningful kiss as Louis twirled his fingers in the long curls that now fell below Harry’s shoulders. Louis thought to himself that the green-eyed man in his arms was just as ravishingly beautiful as he had been fourteen years earlier when they first met, perhaps even more so.

Eventually, they separated and Louis pulled Harry by the hand up the stairs. Harry was happily obliged to follow.

“I’m going to count down from five, Curly, and you better have all of your clothes off by time I get to one,” Louis demanded once they reached their bedroom.

“Are you ever going to stop calling me Curly?” Harry asked, a twinkle in his eyes.

Louis shook his head. “Never.”

“Good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone enjoyed the story and yeah I know it was kind of cliche for a Larry fic, but who doesn't love some cheesiness around the holidays? Also, forgive me for my pathetic smut. I'm not much of a smut writer I admit.
> 
> Thanks again to TTLovesLarry for being my fantastic beta!!!!! 
> 
> Thanks to those who created this fic exchange (I love reading everyone's fics) and especially thanks to them for being patient when I was late getting it finished!


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